Containment
by SimplyMe51
Summary: AU. Ronnie Raymond and Martin Stein are stable from their first fusion, without the need of a quantum splicer, but that doesn't mean either Ronnie or Martin has any idea of what is going on. Or that they're even capable of unmerging.
1. Stuck Together

**AN: Not really sure there's much of a market for Martin Stein/Ronnie Raymond Firestorm fics, but, here we are. I think the fandom could use a few more of them, don't you? The premise for this story is simple: What if the Quantum Splicer wasn't necessary?**

 **As a content warning, there is canon typical violence in here.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

His hands were trembling, that was the first thing he noticed, before he even opened his eyes. His hands were trembling, wind blowing against his face. The ground beneath him was hard and unforgiving, and his body ached as though he had been laying there (wherever there was) for a while.

 _"What…?"_

It was a voice, groggy and confused, echoing oddly through Ronnie's head. Whoever the other person was, Ronnie agreed with them. He too was groggy, and confused, and he had no idea of what had happened to him. He wasn't even convinced that he hadn't spoken the word himself. His hands fumbled over the ground, feeling the asphalt he was apparently laying on, and he struggled to open his eyes.

The second he succeeded, light shot through his eyeballs like a lance, stabbing into his brain, and he quickly closed them again, wincing under the onslaught. He was outside, and it was daytime, that much was obvious, but as to where he was and why he still had no clue.

He risked opening his eyes again, curling his fingers against the asphalt in anticipation, and blinked rapidly to adjust to the incoming light.

 _"Where am I?"_ the voice asked again, still sounding as groggy and confused as Ronnie felt. He briefly entertained the idea of looking for the speaker, but his brain felt like it was wrapped in fog, and he was having enough trouble just processing what he was seeing to focus on what he was hearing.

With no small amount of effort and concentration, Ronnie shifted, remembering how to move his legs and arms, getting his feet underneath him and pushing off the ground. A little wobbly, he nevertheless managed to stand. He was in an alley, he was realizing, empty but for him and the trash and debris that fluttered by in the breeze. What was he doing there again?

(At his side, his hands still shook.)

He took a hesitant step forward, then another, testing his feet and legs with the weight of his body, bracing his shoes against the hard ground. Walking was an effort, but not a physical one. It was as if his brain wasn't quite connected, and Ronnie had to convince it that the legs he saw were his own. From an indeterminate location, the voice spoke again as he moved.

 _"What's happening, what's going on?"_ Some of the confusion in the speaker's tone had fallen away, only to be replaced with panic.

Ronnie frowned. He couldn't tell where the speaker was. Taking a moment to ensure that he was steady on his own two feet, he looked around. There was no one else in the alley with him. He shrugged it off, only slightly anxious, aware in a foggy, half-hearted sort of way that he wasn't processing sensory input as well as he normally did. Maybe he was imagining things.

He took a third step forward, then a fourth, getting a hang of the whole walking thing pretty quickly and, as a bonus, his hands stopped shaking as he did so. But there was a feeling of panic spreading in the back of his mind, somewhat detached from his own emotions but still there, and it mingled with the anxieties at the forefront of his brain. Where was he? What had happened?

A newspaper lay a few feet ahead on the alley floor. Almost without thinking, Ronnie made his way over to it, picking it up with a frown. When he did manage to focus on the small print, he only managed to read the headline, and the date underneath it, before he dropped the paper in shock.

February. No – it couldn't have been February. Because… because… because it was January, and they were turning the particle accelerator on, only… no, they'd already done that. But it hadn't gone right, had it? He remembered hurrying into the tunnel, the door shutting behind him, reassuring Cisco over the radio that he'd done the right thing.

Ronnie looked down at his hands. Was he dead?

 _"Why can't I move? Who are you?"_

It was the voice again. Ronnie's head shot upward, gazing around the alley. There was still no one in sight. "Who said that?"

 _"_ I _did,"_ the voice said. The speaker's tone was still tinged with panic, and a small amount of desperation, the words still echoing oddly in Ronnie's mind.

His hands dropped to his sides. "I'm hallucinating," he said aloud in disbelief. He couldn't be dead if he was hallucinating, right? Had he actually managed to survive the particle accelerator explosion? Or had it not been as bad as he was remembering?

 _"I am_ not _a hallucination!"_ the voice retaliated indignantly.

No. Ronnie was not going to respond to that. He wasn't going to talk to the imaginary voice in his head. (Because now that he was coming back to himself, he could tell that the voice _was_ in his head. It echoed weirdly, and sounded almost like someone was standing next to him, but it was in his head nevertheless.)

What _had_ happened to him? Why couldn't he remember an entire month? How had he survived the explosion? Somehow, he'd wound up in an alley with no memories and full-blown auditory hallucinations.

Oh, god, Caitlin. And Cisco and Dr. Wells and everyone else at STAR Labs. Were they alright, had they survived? He'd been missing a _month_ (apparently), what did they think happened to him? With no clear idea of where he was, Ronnie set off in the direction he was already facing, hoping to find some landmark that was familiar to him. Caitlin. He had to find Caitlin.

 _"Excuse me, what is going on? What have you done to me?!"_ Now the voice was indignant, irritated and annoyed, but there was still that tinge of panic underlying every word.

Ronnie shook his head. Nope. Responding to your hallucinations was the first sign of madness, wasn't it? So long as he didn't acknowledge them (or, rather, in this case, him), and remembered that it _was_ a hallucination, then he would be alright, wouldn't he?

Suddenly, Ronnie felt a faint urge to stop walking. He faltered, stumbling slightly in surprise, but kept going. It wasn't as if he'd lost control of his own body, but more as though someone had strongly suggested that he stop, and Ronnie, unprepared for the suggestion, had almost listened. He kept walking, and felt the urge to stop again. Ignoring it, he pushed forward, turning his attention toward the buildings surrounding him.

 _"I demand to know what is going on! Who are you?! What have you done to me?"_

Ronnie shook his head again and kept walking, clenching his fists as the feeling became almost overwhelming. He barely made it a hundred feet before he gave in, coming to a halt with the alley entrance, and the street beyond it, tantalizingly just out of reach. "Would you stop that?!" he snapped angrily.

The feeling had stopped with his movement, but a small sense of smug satisfaction mingled with the confusion and frustration that had settled in the back of his mind.

 _"Perhaps now you will answer my questions?"_

He started walking again, only for the urge to reappear. It was uncomfortable, and unpleasant, and Ronnie ground to a halt once more, shoes scraping the asphalt in frustration. It was strange, like a nagging annoyance that couldn't control him, but sure as hell influenced how he acted. He didn't want to give in to his hallucination, but what sort of hallucination could control how he felt? Unless it was worse than a hallucination, and he'd snapped completely.

What if that was why he was missing a month of his life?

But Ronnie had been healthy before the particle accelerator had exploded, and though he was no expert on mental health, he didn't think one could fall apart so thoroughly so quickly.

After some hesitation, he spoke. "I don't know what's going on, alright? Did you do this to me?"

 _"In order to answer that question, I'd have to know what, exactly, was done to us in the first place."_

"Are you, like… a ghost?" Ronnie asked hesitantly. It was ridiculous – he didn't even believe in ghosts – but his hallucination certainly was acting like an independent being, rather than just an extension of Ronnie's subconscious. He glanced over at his reflection in a nearby window – fuzzy and indistinct from the warped glass and lack of sunlight in the narrow alley, it was nevertheless definitely him. Him as he'd been a month ago, without long hair or even a beard as evidence of his missing time.

There was a pregnant pause, and Ronnie got the impression that the voice was thinking.

 _"I… I certainly hope not,"_ it finally said, hesitant and unsure. Then, conviction entered the voice: _"I'm certainly no hallucination."_

"So you're… real. And in my head?"

 _"That would seem to be the case. Assuming that is_ your _reflection?"_

Ronnie nodded, then froze, wondering if the… the other man? Ronnie wondered if he could sense the movement.

"What…" he started, at a loss for how to even begin a conversation. "This isn't possible." Maybe he was dreaming. Or maybe he actually was dead.

 _"And yet here we are,"_ the voice said. The tone was resigned and panicked at the same time, accepting that this was reality, but not sure how or why or what could be done about it.

"So do you… are you…?" What did you even say in this kind of situation? "Can you read my mind?"

There was a short pause, as though the speaker was attempting to do so. _"No."_

Ronnie was at a loss for what to say. He was either having a very convincing dream or hallucination, or there was another man in his mind. He shook his own head. "I need to go see Caitlin."

 _"What about Clarissa?"_

"Clarissa?"

 _"My wife."_

Right. There was a real person in his head. Someone who'd had a life, a job, a family.

"I'm Ronnie," he said at the realization. "Ronnie Raymond."

A pause, then: _"Dr. Martin Stein. Normally I would say it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, however…"_

To his surprise, Ronnie found himself grinning, snorting at the other man's words. "Doctor?"

 _"Of physics. Nuclear physics, to be specific."_ There was another pause. _"Actually, I may have some idea as to what caused this..."_

Ronnie waited expectantly, but Stein didn't speak.

"Yeah?" he asked impatiently. He'd been missing a month. He wanted – needed – to go see Caitlin.

 _"What is the last thing you remember?"_

That wasn't hard. "The particle accelerator explosion. I was at STAR Labs when it happened."

 _"As was I. Or rather, right outside, carrying the FIRESTORM matrix."_

"Firestorm?"

 _"My project on nuclear transmutation. Are you familiar with the science?"_

Ronnie was mostly a mechanical engineer, but he'd worked at STAR Labs with some of the best scientific minds around. He knew general information about nuclear transmutation – atoms were all made of the same thing after all, you just had to change the number of protons, electrons, and neutrons to change the material.

"But the energy requirements…" his words died in this throat, remembering the wave of energy the exploding accelerator had given off.

 _"Yes."_

Ronnie shook his head. "So, you're saying that, somehow, the wave of energy from the particle accelerator combined the two of us?"

 _"I admit that the idea seems farfetched, but it is either that or we are both somehow sharing the same lucid dream."_

 _Or afterlife_ , Ronnie thought but didn't say. Still, Stein's explanation was the best one he had – if Stein was, in fact, real. But Ronnie didn't think even a hallucination of his would make up a history as a nuclear physicist, with a wife named Clarissa.

"Alright, well we can figure out the specifics later. I'm going to go see Caitlin."

 _"And my wife?"_ The tone was slightly impatient, and expectant.

What could he say to that? "You think she'd believe me if I tried to tell her the truth?"

Stein's tone became indignant. _"You believe your Caitlin will?"_

Ronnie froze. "I… I can't not tell her," he said. But how could he explain it – he barely believed it himself, and it was his mind that Stein had been thrown into. He shook his head; he couldn't let doubt hold him back. He set off again, leaving the alley determined to find Caitlin, but not knowing what he would say when he did. How could he tell the woman he loved that he was no longer one man, but two, stuck together?

* * *

It took a little while for Ronnie to get his bearings, and Stein stayed mostly silent during that time, but eventually he found a street he was familiar with and headed in the direction of the apartment he shared with Caitlin.

It was only a side glance into one of the nearby shop windows that gave him pause. Out of the alley, the street he walked on was well lit, the glass clean and clear – but it wasn't the merchandise in the shop he was looking at, it was his reflection.

 _"I take it your eyes…"_ Stein started after a moment.

"No," Ronnie answered abruptly, gaining a few odd looks from passersby. He barely noticed.

Normally blue, with the black pupil that was shared by practically all life-forms on Earth with eyes, Ronnie's eyes were now a pure white, without iris or pupil. It was a strange, unsettling sight.

Stein didn't seem to know what to say either.

"And _your_ eyes aren't…?" Ronnie asked, uncaring about the looks he received.

 _"Most decidedly not."_

"Right."

He looked… he looked blind, almost, and at that moment he wasn't entirely sure of how he was capable of seeing at all. A side effect of the two of them merging, or a sign that he actually was hallucinating? Up until now, Ronnie had assumed that he was himself, just with an extra mind added on, but was that true? How else had he – they – been affected?

Tearing himself from his reflection, he set off down the sidewalk again, but this time he wandered aimlessly, forgetting his earlier destination.

"You don't think anything else is different?" he asked, glancing down at his hands as he walked. He felt like Ronnie Raymond, as far as he could tell, perhaps with a little something extra flickering at the back of his mind.

 _"I have no earthly idea I'm afraid. It seems we are both clueless as to our circumstances."_

Stein had it worse than he did, Ronnie told himself (if Stein wasn't a figment of his imagination). At least Ronnie could walk around, and talk to other people. At least he had a body to control.

Aware that he looked like he was talking to himself when he spoke with Stein, Ronnie made his way down to the nearest side street, looking for somewhere that wasn't populated. Finding a suitably empty alley he slipped down it, leaning against a wall.

"We need to fix this," he said plainly.

Stein's response was slightly sarcastic. _"I'm open to suggestions."_

"Your research," Ronnie said, hoping against hope that Stein was real, and not a hallucination. (The white eyes kind of cinched the deal though, unless Ronnie also had visual hallucinations as well as auditory.) "Where is it?"

 _"I had my laptop with me when the accelerator exploded, but there are back-ups at my office, and some of my research is also at home."_

Ronnie patted his pockets. No wallet, no phone, and he was walking around with pure white eyes that were sure to freak out anyone he came across. And, on top of all that, he had to go to the bathroom.

"So how do we get there?"

 _"I take it the train is out of the question?"_

Ronnie shook his head – they were back to their earlier problem, and he was getting frustrated. "We need help."

 _"If you are still considering approaching your girlfriend –"_

"Caitlin is my fiancée," Ronnie corrected, irritated, "and unless you have a better suggestion…"

 _"I'm sure between the two of us–"_

"I'm not even sure you're real!" Ronnie finally snapped, not really frustrated with Stein, but with the circumstances he had found himself in.

That gave the other man pause.

 _"Then I suggest our first stop to be the library,"_ he said after a moment, tone snide, _"so you can verify that I do, indeed, exist."_

Ronnie sighed. "Look, you have to admit that none of this makes any sense. It shouldn't be possible."

Stein didn't respond.

"C'mon, really?"

The mental impression of crossed arms somehow found its way into Ronnie's mind and he frowned. Fine. If the human being who had somehow _combined_ with Ronnie wanted to get upset because Ronnie wasn't sure that what was happening was real, then that was his problem. He pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against, and made his way back to the main street. Maybe the library was a good idea, if only to assure himself that he wasn't going crazy.

* * *

Stein hadn't told Ronnie what university he worked for, but a quick Google search of the man's name had been enough to reassure Ronnie that he was real. He skimmed through Stein's faculty profile, studying the picture for a short while (white, older, wearing glasses), before browsing through some of the articles about awards the man had won, or research he'd worked on. There was also a lone link that led to his missing person's article, with the date of his disappearance listed as the day the particle accelerator had been turned on.

There was no way Ronnie could have hallucinated Stein, which meant this was real, and it was happening, and there was another person trapped in his head.

It had taken Ronnie probably over an hour of walking to find a library, as unfamiliar with the neighborhood as he was, and in that time Stein hadn't spoken. Sitting at the row of computers with plenty of strangers, Ronnie didn't want to be the one to start the conversation either. He had a hard-enough time as it was keeping his gaze averted so no one noticed his eyes.

Speaking of his eyes… Ronnie stood, noticing a lost and found sign, and made his way to the small room that the bin had been placed in. This was a fairly crowded library, in a well populated neighborhood. Maybe they would have a pair of sunglasses or something he could use.

 _"Well, now will you admit that I am not a figment of your imagination?"_ Stein asked indignantly as Ronnie walked away from the computers.

Ronnie didn't reply immediately, waiting until he stepped into the unused room. "I'm sorry, okay," he said under his breath, "nothing like this has ever happened before, to anyone." But as much turmoil as he was in at the moment, he couldn't imagine what it was like for Stein. He shifted through the bin in front of him, moving aside the sweater on top, grateful there was no one else currently in the room with them.

 _"What are you doing?"_ Stein asked, momentarily distracted. _"Looting?"_

But Ronnie had found what he was looking for, and he grabbed the pair of sunglasses in front of him.

 _"Oh."_

Plastic, cheap, and clunky they might have been, but at least they were intact.

Slipping on the sunglasses he left the room, heading for the public restrooms without thought. Only once he'd pushed through the door though did he pause. There was no one else inside, but the silence still felt very awkward to Ronnie.

 _"The more you prolong this the more awkward it will be for the both of us,"_ Stein said reluctantly after a moment.

Ronnie grimaced, but agreed.

* * *

Outside the library, Ronnie wandered down the street a short while before ducking into an alley once more. He still had no idea of what had happened, or what to do about it, but he was somewhat calmer knowing that Stein wasn't a hallucination.

"Now what?" he asked, knowing that his vote was to find Caitlin.

 _"I… have been giving our situation some thought and… Well. Some help would be preferable to sleeping outdoors tonight."_

Ronnie looked up – he hadn't even realized that the sun was already setting. "Caitlin and I…" he paused, realizing that Caitlin had been on her own for a month now. "I know how to get to Caitlin's apartment from here, but I've never walked it. It might take a while."

 _"Well then we best be off. And… about my wife…"_

"We'll find some way to tell her," Ronnie promised. "Both of them."

* * *

With little else to do but think about their situation, and well aware that neither of them really knew anything about the other, Stein and Ronnie talked on the long walk to the apartment.

In snatches and whispers, Ronnie answered Stein's questions and posed questions of his own when the streets around them were empty. The conversation was halted at times, when crowds surrounded them, but with no other distractions they managed to pick up where they had left off whenever the crowds dissipated.

Ronnie talked about Caitlin and Cisco and his other friends at STAR Labs, about his father back home in Coast City and his mother who'd moved to Florida. He talked about his work at STAR Labs, and he told Stein the story of the last day he remembered, running into the particle accelerator when it all started to go so wrong.

Stein was also an only child apparently, with no children and little family to speak of, but he told Ronnie of his wife, and his colleagues. He spoke of his work, both as a teacher and as a researcher, and the different universities he'd taught at in the past. He was also Jewish, and a rabbi at that, though he'd admitted that he didn't follow Jewish tradition as closely as he perhaps should have – at which point Ronnie had pointed out that he himself was atheist.

When Ronnie ended with the story of the explosion, Stein was appropriately silent for a few moments, before quietly but firmly stating that the entire city owed Ronnie a debt of gratitude for his actions one month ago.

Ronnie didn't pretend to believe that he could begin to know what kind of person Stein was after only a few hours of conversation, but as he made his way into his apartment building, he knew it was a start.

* * *

The doorbell ringing took a moment to register in her mind, unexpected as it was, and Caitlin sighed as she turned off her TV and heaved herself off the couch. It was late – past nine o'clock already – which meant it was probably Mrs. Haversham from down the hall. She meant well, and she'd made Caitlin more than a few casseroles that she'd eaten in the wake of Ronnie's… now that Ronnie was gone, but she could be a bit smothering, and right now Caitlin just wanted to be left alone.

As it was, she mustered up a smile for her neighbor, and opened the door.

The figure standing in the hallway wasn't Mrs. Haversham, and if Caitlin had been holding something she would have dropped it. Instead she just gaped, jaw dropping as she stared unblinking.

It was Ronnie, in a cheap pair of sunglasses and the outfit he'd died in, looking perfectly fine, and healthy, like he'd just stepped out but had forgotten his key to get back in.

"Caitlin…" he started.

Whatever he'd been about to say, he didn't get to finish. Caitlin hurried forward, engulfing him in a hug that he eagerly returned.

"Ronnie," she gasped, tears in her eyes as she clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder. "How… I don't…?" she was lost for words. "You died!"

"I know," he said, squeezing her tighter, "I know. I'm sorry – I don't know what happened. The last thing I remember is the accelerator exploding."

Caitlin pulled back ever so slightly, still clinging to him but enough to see his face (why was he wearing those ridiculous sunglasses?). "You mean…?"

He shook his head. "I don't remember anything from the past month. I came here as soon as I could."

Caitlin shook her head in disbelief, drinking in the sight of Ronnie before her, whole and alive, even if neither of them had any idea of where he'd been for the past month, or how he'd survived the explosion. Coming to the realization that they were still in the hallway, she pulled him inside her – _their_ apartment, and shut the door behind them.

Little had changed since the day of the explosion. Cisco had been starting to suggest cleaning up the place, offering to come by and help out, but nothing had been set in stone yet and all of Ronnie's things were still in their places.

There were so many questions to ask, but none of them were important right now.

"You're alive," she said with a sob, and fell into his arms again.

It took a minute for Caitlin to cry herself out, to step back and wipe the tears from her cheeks, and Ronnie stood patiently still the whole time, holding her tightly in his arms. There were traces of tears on his cheeks too.

"I wasn't sure…" he said when she finally stepped back, voice breaking slightly. "Cisco? Dr. Wells?"

"They're fine, they're both fine," Caitlin answered hurriedly, quick to reassure him. "You…" she sniffed, wiping her cheeks again. "You saved a lot of lives," she said, and beamed up at her fiancé, standing beside her once more.

Ronnie smiled warmly down at her, arms outstretched with a hand on each of her shoulders, and he pulled her in again for another quick hug, kissing the top of her head as he did so.

* * *

 _"You didn't tell her."_

It was past midnight, and Ronnie was lying awake in bed, Caitlin slumbering beside him. They'd talked for a few hours, Ronnie snacking on heated up leftovers in the meantime. Mostly it had been Caitlin talking though – about the aftermath of the explosion, the mass exodus of their fellow employees, Cisco, Dr. Wells, a man who'd been struck by lightning and was being looked after by STAR Labs. Ronnie hadn't said much except to ask questions here or there – he hadn't taken his sunglasses off until she'd fallen asleep on him, and he hadn't mentioned the other consciousness that had taken up residence in his body.

Professor Stein, thankfully, had been mostly silent since they'd reached the apartment, but he wasn't asleep yet either.

Ronnie glanced over at Caitlin fondly, then slipped from the bed as quietly as he was able, making his way to the couch in the living room. He sat down, braced his hands on his knees, and only then did he respond.

"I couldn't. What would I even say?" he asked quietly. "How do you tell your fiancée that you're two people? She was… she was so happy to see me." It had been a month for Caitlin, but less than a day for him.

Stein hummed thoughtfully in response and Ronnie shifted, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands.

"I can't," Ronnie tried to find the words, "not tell her, but… how do I?"

 _"I'm afraid I don't know,"_ Stein responded. _"This is new territory for the both of us. But I don't believe this is something you should be keeping from her."_

What was he supposed to say: "Hey Caitlin, I'm fine, but there's another man living in my head"? How did you explain to someone something that you didn't understand yourself? But Stein was right, he had to tell her – there was now another person in their relationship, another person had been in the room with them, and she hadn't known.

Despite their earlier conversation, Ronnie was aware that he knew next to nothing about Martin Stein, or the kind of man he was. He was an academic, and one of his first thoughts upon learning a month had passed had been worry for his wife, and Ronnie could recite a few facts about the man's life, but he knew there was no way Stein could have told him everything. The other man could have been anyone, could have done anything.

He believed that Stein existed now, and was who he said he was, but what else? Should Ronnie trust him?

He stood. "We'll figure it out in the morning," he said under his breath, talking to himself as much as he was talking to Stein. He took them back to his and Caitlin's bedroom.

Two people falling asleep in one body was a strange feeling. Up until that moment, Ronnie hadn't really been entirely _aware_ of Stein. He hadn't really tried, but he hadn't really been able to feel the other man in his head. But he could tell the instant that Stein fell asleep, and he realized that he'd been feeling hints of the other man's emotions since they'd woken up – they'd just all too often aligned with what Ronnie had already been feeling.

Once Stein was asleep, Ronnie followed shortly after, despite the problems and questions running rampant through his mind.

* * *

The next morning, Ronnie waited until Caitlin was fully awake – dressed, ready for the day, and sitting down eating breakfast with him – before he came clean.

"There's… there's a few things I haven't told you," he said. He was still wearing the cheap sunglasses he'd taken from the library lost and found, not having bothered to look for his own pair yet.

Caitlin looked mildly apprehensive, but smiled at him. "You're here," she said gently, a promise that, whatever he had to say, it would be alright.

He smiled back, relaxing, knowing she would stand by him despite the strangeness of the situation.

"It's a little… strange," he said aloud, hesitating nevertheless.

She reached over and took his hand. "Ronnie, whatever it is, we can face it together."

He nodded, and reached upward.

* * *

Ronald took the sunglasses off and the young woman gasped, one hand moving to cover her mouth in shock.

"Can you still…" she started to ask after a moment.

"See?" Ronald finished for her. He nodded. "Just as perfectly as before. I don't know Caitlin."

She leaned forward in her seat and traced Ronald's eye socket gently with her thumb. Since this was also apparently Martin's body too now, but also, it wasn't _his_ , he felt her touch as well, but it was faint, as though he was half asleep and barely aware of himself, no matter how alert his mind was.

"I feel fine," Ronald continued as she did so. "I didn't even realize it until I saw my reflection, but…"

It was the truth, as far as Martin was aware of it. Not having a body of his own was strange, especially because to him, he didn't especially feel disconnected. Stuck together, he saw and heard what Ronald did, had felt his hunger, had known when his bladder was full. He couldn't control any of it, and he found himself enjoying what Ronald ate even though he wouldn't have chosen it himself, but it still felt like the body he was in was _his_ body (or at least, a body connected to his mind, even if it wasn't the one he was used to).

So, when Ronald said that he felt fine, Martin knew it to be the truth, because _he_ felt fine. Or at least, fine if they were talking about illness or pain, physical discomfort. Ronald's body felt healthy, even if his mind and Martin's were in turmoil.

"We should take you to the hospital, I'll call in sick," Caitlin said, already moving for her phone. "You were gone for a month – there's no telling what happened to you."

Ronald reached for her before she could go anywhere, and Martin felt his (their?) fingers gently encircle the young woman's wrist.

"I'd… I'd rather not," Ronald said, tone cautious. "I really do feel fine."

Martin thoroughly agreed with the other man's caution. He had no desire to be a lab rat. Still… _"It would be useful,"_ he said, _"if we knew more about our circumstances."_

"Can't you just… use some of the equipment at STAR Labs?" Ronald continued, giving in to Martin's suggestion, or perhaps just agreeing with him. The young woman before them was a doctor, Ronald had told him earlier, on the walk to the apartment, even if she didn't practice medicine.

Caitlin appeared to waver slightly. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Ronald repeated sincerely.

 _"And me?"_ Martin asked. Ronald still hadn't told his fiancée about the elephant in the room.

"I'll go with you to work," Ronald continued. "I can see Cisco and Dr. Wells."

Martin supposed it would have to do as an answer, given their circumstances.

* * *

STAR Labs looked even larger than Martin remembered it, though he supposed that was probably because of how empty it was: Caitlin and Ronald's car was the only one in the lot as they pulled in, parking near the building entrance. There was no hustle and bustle of activity, no excited scientists doing ground-breaking research, not anymore.

The last time either of them had seen this building had been the night of the explosion, and while that might have happened a month ago, it felt like yesterday to them. Ronald stopped outside the car momentarily, staring up at what had been a promise for the future, and was now instead a destroyed relic of the past.

Caitlin's hand slipping into theirs knocked them both from their contemplations, and Ronald smiled down at her softly. He was wearing his own sunglasses this time, presumably so as to not startle Cisco or Dr. Wells when they ran into them.

"Are you alright," Caitlin began to ask, "coming back here?"

Martin wondered why Ronald wouldn't be, but then remembered the young man's tale of actually entering the particle accelerator before the explosion, giving his life to save others. It was a remarkable story, and the reminder of it had Martin awaiting Ronald's response just as cautiously as Dr. Snow was.

It took a moment before Ronald spoke. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Besides, it didn't turn out too bad, did it?"

The young woman at their side grinned up at him. "No," she said lovingly, "I guess not."

Martin thought about reminding Ronald of his presence – however wonderful it was that they had lived, their current state left many things to be desired – but he doubted Ronald had forgotten. Instead he remained silent, letting Ronald take them into the building.

The halls they walked through were silent and dark, lit only from the sunlight streaming through the windows, and it wasn't until they reached the elevator that there was any evidence that the electricity even worked at all. The place felt abandoned, and empty, filled with a myriad of empty rooms, sheets covering the unused furniture.

"We try to save a bit on the electricity bill," Caitlin said offhandedly as the elevator let them out one floor below where they'd entered. She flicked the first switch she'd touched since entering the building, lighting the hallway before them. "Given that it's just the four of us."

"Four?" Ronald asked.

 _"The young man in a coma, I presume,"_ Martin said, almost simultaneously with Caitlin's own: "Oh, I was counting Barry Allen – the guy who got struck by lightning when the accelerator exploded."

They turned a corner, Ronald evidently familiar with the area as he led them into the room in front of them. Martin took the room to be the main control room for the accelerator, given the circular row of computers and the equipment scattered around. Mr. Allen, presumably, was lying motionless in a room off to the side, though the glass walls and door didn't lend him much privacy (not that he needed it).

"Cisco usually gets here before I do," Caitlin said as they entered the room, "but I guess we beat him today." She turned then, the sound of the elevator ringing through the hall, and chuckled. "I guess not by much though."

Martin could feel Ronald's matching smile.

"I'll… I should probably warn him," Caitlin said.

They waited in the room as she hurried into the hall, moving to meet this Cisco before he ran into them.

"Caitlin?" a young male voice called out, tone slightly confused. "You're here early."

"I… I need to tell you something," Caitlin said, hesitating. "I didn't want to do it over the phone." There was the briefest of pauses. "No, no, nothing bad," Caitlin continued, no doubt responding to some nonverbal cue. "I just… it's Ronnie. Ronnie's alive."

Another short pause.

"What?"

"He survived," Caitlin continued. "He showed up at our apartment last night. He doesn't know where he's been the past month but… but he's _alive_ Cisco."

"Where is he?" the question was somewhat hurried, expectant. "Did you…?"

Caitlin must have gestured, or otherwise indicated the answer, because there were footsteps once more. The two of them entered the room, and Martin got his first look at Ronald's friend. Cisco was young, no doubt close to Caitlin and Ronald's own age, with hair that was just a touch too long. His shirt was a picture of the galaxy, with one of those Google Maps pins on it indicating the Earth's location, and he wore a jacket over it in a crude attempt to be somewhat formal.

But there was a hopeful look on his face, and he embraced Ronald fully as soon as their eyes locked.

"Ronnie, man, I thought you were a goner," he said, voice cracking.

Martin felt Ronald return the hug whole-heartedly. "So did I."

He tuned out of the conversation as the two continued to talk. It was starting to feel like he was intruding into these people's lives, like a peeping Tom almost, first with Ronald's fiancée, then his best friend. No doubt the feeling had arisen largely because they didn't know he was present, however much Ronald _was_ aware of it.

And Martin had to admit he'd had his doubts about that too, wondering if this was some sort of nightmare. But he'd resigned himself to the fact that if it was a nightmare, it was a waking one, and the circumstances he found himself in were very real.

Very real and very confusing. He didn't know what had happened, or how it really affected them, only that it had happened. Could he even be considered alive anymore, without a body to call his own, living out the rest of his existence stuck to Ronnie Raymond? _Would_ he live the rest of his life stuck to the other man? What would happen if Ronald got hurt, or worse? And Martin was older than Ronald, could he age without a body, and die before the younger man?

When it seemed like the personal greetings were done, Martin tuned back into the conversation, pulling himself from his thoughts before he spiraled into an endless loop of what-ifs he didn't have the answers to.

"Have you ever heard of, like… two people existing in one body?" Ronald was asking uncertainly.

Dr. Snow and Mr. Ramon exchanged confused looks.

"You mean like… multiple personality disorder?" Caitlin asked after a moment.

Ronald bit his lip, apparently searching for the words, then shook his head. "No, no, forget I said anything."

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Caitlin asked, moving forward to place a hand on Ronald's forehead. "You feel a little warm." She didn't wait for a response, turning to Cisco. "Can you help me get the…"

"Yeah," Cisco agreed easily.

"Wait here," Caitlin ordered, and the two of them hurried off, no doubt to fetch the medical supplies.

 _"What was that?"_ Martin asked harshly. With nothing to do but think, his endless questions had put him in a mood, and he wanted answers as soon as possible. Answers they wouldn't get if they kept the truth about their condition hidden. As much as Martin didn't want to be a lab rat, he wanted information more, and if Ronald trusted these two, then that was going to have to be enough for him. (Apparently, _if_ he trusted them was the right question to ask.)

Ronald shook his head again. "They're never going to believe it – not without proof. _I_ barely believe it."

 _"I think my life should be proof enough!"_

"I've been gone – somewhere – for a month. I could have Googled you at any point."

 _"I could tell you things that cannot be found with a simple_ Google _search."_

"But how would they verify them?"

That gave Martin pause, distracting him from his frustration. _"Clarissa,"_ he said after a moment, longing to see his wife.

Ronald started to pace. "Yeah, maybe," he offered. "But…"

"Maybe what?" Cisco asked, he and Caitlin re-entering the room with their hands full.

"Maybe uh… maybe you're right," Ronald said, floundering slightly. "I'm missing a month of my life. I feel fine, but I might not be as healthy as I think."

Caitlin and Cisco exchanged looks, a tinge of worry coloring both of their expressions – though it was overshadowed by the sheer relief they both seemed to feel now that their friend was once more among the living.

 _Clarissa_ , Martin thought wistfully, with regret, wondering how she had handled the month without him. He'd seen the missing persons report Ronald had found on the library computer, so she was still looking, hadn't given up on him, but even so… The longer he was gone, the more she would suffer.

 _This afternoon then_ , he decided, as Dr. Snow attached a blood pressure cuff to Ronald's arm. He would convince Ronald to visit her one way or another.

As Caitlin worked, Ronald talked with Cisco. Martin just felt annoyed: he didn't know these people and he was trapped in this room, trapped in Ronald's body, listening to what Ronald heard. And Cisco mostly talked about things that held no interest to Martin, covering topics that Caitlin had missed the previous night on the status of old friends and co-workers, and what Cisco had been up to the past month.

But though they shared the same body, Martin was coming to the conclusion that they didn't share the same brain, or at least his neural networks were separate than Ronald's – not that he was a neurologist of any sort. He was coming to this conclusion, because although he saw what Ronald saw, and heard what Ronald heard, he didn't process it the same way. Which meant that while Ronald was conversing with Cisco, Martin was paying attention to Caitlin, noting their blood pressure and temperature as she took them.

Nothing jumped out at him, but it wasn't exactly his area of expertise. The only thing he did notice, which Caitlin mentioned as she finished, was their temperature.

"You're running a little hot, but everything else seems fine," she said, still a tinge of concern in her voice.

Ronald reached for her, grabbing her hand. "See, nothing to worry about."

"I could run a blood test…" she started to offer.

"Cait," Ronald interrupted gently. "I'm fine."

 _"Are we certain about that?"_ Martin asked. He supposed it would have been strange if Ronald had requested a thorough blood test or brain scan, but it all came down to a matter of trust in his mind. If Ronald was going to tell his two friends the truth about his circumstances, then surely requesting additional tests was a reasonable thing to do.

"When does Dr. Wells get in?" Ronald continued, as though Martin hadn't said a thing.

"In about an hour," Cisco said easily. "It… it takes him a bit longer to get ready in the mornings…"

No doubt because of the wheelchair that Dr. Snow had mentioned the previous night. Ronald pushed past the awkward silence. "Just the three of us then," he said cheerfully.

Martin coughed pointedly. There was most definitely a fourth person in the room, and he didn't appreciate being ignore.

"Show me this suit you're working on," Ronald continued, turning to Cisco. "For the, uh, firefighters."

"It's not a _suit_ yet," the other young man corrected, "I'm just testing out some fabrics right now."

 _"If you are not going to tell your friends anything,"_ Martin interjected, _"then I would like to see my wife now."_

"Just… give me a minute Cisco," Ronald said aloud. "I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick."

Knowing very well that Ronald didn't actually need to use the restroom, Martin assumed that his new-found acquaintance was taking them somewhere to speak in private. As such, he remained silent as Ronald left the room, took them down the hall, and shut the door behind them.

 _"If you do not believe that your friends will believe us, then speaking with Clarissa is our logical next course of action,"_ he said as soon as the door latched.

"I said we would talk to your wife and I meant it," Ronald countered, slightly irritated. "This is all very unreal, and..."

 _"Unfortunately, as much as you may wish to pretend otherwise,"_ Martin interrupted, tired of the way Ronald kept ignoring their situation, _"this is very real."_ While Ronald might have been able to shut him out and ignore him and pretend that he wasn't there, Martin didn't have the luxury of acting the same.

"I know that," Ronald said, gritting his teeth. "Just give me some time with my friends."

 _"My research is also at my home,"_ Martin continued. _"If we can find a way out of this first, then you can visit your friends all you like."_

"I can't just walk out on them–" Ronald started.

 _"Perhaps if you_ trusted _them, and were willing to explain the circumstances–"_

"You're the one who said they wouldn't believe me!"

 _"You have seen your fiancée_ Ronald _, I wish to see my wife!"_ Martin finally snapped.

"My _name_ is _Ronnie_!" Ronald half-yelled in response. He gestured wildly as he spoke, and when he was done both his and Martin's anger had been replaced by astonishment and no small amount of fear: in the mirror in front of them they could see Ronald's reflection, including the flames that had sprung to life around them.

* * *

 **AN: This part of the story is finished, and will consist of three chapters, updated every two weeks. There will (should) be a sequel.**

 **It was beta'd by the awesome radpineapple.**

 **Hope you liked it, let me know what you thought!**


	2. Trapped Within

It took a moment for the shock to wear off, for Ronnie to snap out of the daze he had entered and realize, 'oh crap, I'm on fire'. But… that wasn't quite the right description. Yes, there were flames, and yes, they were on him, but nothing seemed to be burning. In fact… the fire was limited to where his skin was exposed, his face and hands mostly. The flames seemed to be coming _from_ him.

"Uh…" he started to say, looking down at his hands, then back up at his face in the mirror. Words wouldn't come. He and Stein had been arguing, but that seemed utterly unimportant at the moment.

 _"It doesn't hurt,"_ Stein said, a touch of amazement in his tone.

No, no it didn't. At least, it didn't hurt them – but Ronnie thought of Caitlin and Cisco in the other room, all the people they'd walked by on the streets the other day.

"It doesn't hurt us," he corrected, reminding himself to breathe.

Stein seemed to realize what he meant easily enough. _"If this had happened while we had been with someone…"_

Ronnie was pretty sure that that horror that filled him at the thought was actually from the both of them. "This… this has gotta be that FIRESTORM matrix you were talking about. Maybe it… it fused us with it."

 _"Giving us the ability to produce nuclear fire?"_ Stein's tone was skeptical, but considering.

"How do we, how do we turn it off?" Ronnie asked. He thought about reaching for the sink, but his hands were still aflame and, distantly, through his panic, he was aware that touching anything was probably a bad idea.

 _"Well, it… it happened when you got angry,"_ Stein said, _"perhaps if you were to calm down…"_

Calm down? Easy enough in practice, but Ronnie was currently merged with another human being and some sort of nuclear experiment that somehow gave him the ability to burst into flames. He was halfway to a panic attack as it was.

He clenched his (burning) fists, and tried to take a deep breath. Nothing happened. He was on fire, and he probably wouldn't even have noticed if it wasn't for the mirror in front of him (them). How was he supposed to calm down?

 _"We are not doing any damage at the moment Ronald but that may not last."_

Ronnie took another deep breath, thinking of Caitlin's smile when he had come home last night, but that just made him worry about what could have happened had he burst into flames while she'd been near.

"It's your FIRESTORM matrix," he said shortly, trying to focus, "why don't you turn it off?"

 _"In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly–"_

"Wait." Ronnie's own words had given him an idea. "We were both angry. Maybe we both control this."

There was a pause as Stein considered the idea. _"We need to work together,"_ he agreed after a moment.

"On three," Ronnie said. "One, two…" He concentrated, on calming down, on willing the flames to dissipate, and he could feel Stein doing the same. The flames surrounding his, no their hands and head, flickered and died.

Ronnie took another deep breath, grinning for a moment before his smile faded. "We can't go back out there."

 _"Nor do I wish to endanger Clarissa,"_ Stein agreed. _"We must get this under control first."_

Ronnie nodded. Right. Apparently, he and Stein together could burst into flames with one wrong turn of their combined emotional state. Ronnie wasn't planning on going near another human, much less someone he loved, until they could turn it on and off at will. As it was, the flames had died, but Ronnie could still feel them flickering under his skin, aching to be free. He wasn't sure how he had missed the sensation before, though the last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of activity and new experiences.

It was taking everything he had to hold back the fire that was apparently trapped within him.

* * *

"Are we sure he's alright?" Cisco's tone was uncharacteristically worried, and he glanced over toward the hallway as he spoke.

Caitlin hesitated. "I… I don't know," she answered honestly. "He seems…"

"Distracted?" Cisco offered.

She nodded. "I'm worried about him. And… I don't know how he could have, you know, survived." She didn't want to admit it out loud, but Ronnie had been inside the particle accelerator when it had exploded: they'd counted him among the dead from the beginning, and had never thought the situation could have been otherwise, simply because his survival would have been against all the odds.

"How did he even get out of the accelerator?" Cisco wondered aloud, in line with her own thoughts as he glanced toward the hallway again.

Caitlin gave a helpless shrug in response, twisting her engagement ring anxiously around her finger. "I don't know," she said, well aware of the hopeless tone her words had taken, but unable to muster up the mental strength to do anything about it.

Cisco glanced at his watch. "Dr. Wells will be here soon," he said absently, looking up at her. They both knew Dr. Wells wasn't the reason he was checking the time.

Caitlin glanced toward the hallway again. Ronnie _had_ been awhile. She exchanged glances with Cisco.

"Maybe I should go check on him," her best friend offered hesitantly.

She gave him a small grateful smile. "Could you?"

Cisco returned the smile somewhat nervously, and left the room. Fighting the urge to pace, Caitlin twisted her engagement ring again. Her basic health check-up hadn't turned up anything alarming, but if the problem was with her fiancé's mind, then the tests she'd run _wouldn't_ reveal anything. What if something was seriously wrong with Ronnie?

Shaking her head, Caitlin mentally chided herself. She'd just gotten Ronnie back from the dead – together they could handle whatever complications came from that.

But as Cisco rushed back into the room, expression concerned and a piece of paper in his hand, Caitlin felt her gut clench with worry. What if they couldn't?

"What is it?" she asked, moving to meet him.

"He left," Cisco replied, short of breath as he handed the paper to her.

She grabbed it eagerly, scanning the words quickly. _I'm sorry. I'll see you soon, I promise._ It was Ronnie's handwriting and Caitlin flipped the page over, looking for more.

"That's it?" she asked in surprise, worry consuming her as she looked back up at Cisco.

He seemed equally as unsettled. He nodded. "He was just… gone," he said hopelessly.

"Can we see which way he went?"

"We can track down which exit he used," Cisco offered skeptically, "but not where he went from there."

Caitlin looked down again at the note in her hands. She'd only just gotten Ronnie back, but this time her fiancé had chosen to leave her.

She looked over at Barry Allen, lying in a coma. The particle accelerator explosion, or the lightning strike, or some combination of the two, had changed him so much that his heart sometimes beat too fast for the hospital monitors to register it. If that could have happened to him, far from the accelerator in his lab at the CCPD, then what had it done to Ronnie, who'd been inside the accelerator when it had exploded?

* * *

The parking lot of STAR Labs was large and abandoned – it would have been perfect for letting out the fire within them, if not for the fact that it was too close to Caitlin and Cisco.

 _"Perhaps we should head down to the river,"_ Stein suggested, clearly familiar with the area.

"Good idea," Ronnie said, changing his heading. If they were going to practice lighting themselves on fire, a source of water nearby was probably the safest situation they could hope for. Not for the first time, he mused on the absurdity of the situation. Just when it seemed like he was adjusting to having another voice in his head, life had thrown him another curveball.

"If we're nuclear powered," he mused as he walked, thinking out loud and grateful there was no one around to hear him, "does that mean that we're radioactive?"

 _"Hmm."_ Stein took a moment to think. _"I believe it would be the opposite, actually."_

"Meaning…?"

 _"Meaning that we might be capable of absorbing radiation, if not consciously then potentially at least with our mere presence."_

"Like some sort of, of… radioactive sponge? A nuclear waste absorber?"

 _"Not how I would have phrased it perhaps, but… yes."_

"So," Ronnie said, summarizing what they had learned so far, "your FIRESTORM experiment, combined with the wave of energy from the particle accelerator, combined our two forms and turned us into, sort of the opposite of a nuclear reactor?"

 _"Not the opposite at all. We turn radiation into energy,"_ Stein corrected him.

"But… we weren't absorbing radiation back at STAR Labs," Ronnie said, leaving the sidewalk and heading past an abandoned warehouse in order to get them closer to the water.

 _"Actually we were,"_ Stein countered. _"Everyday objects continuously give off background radiation. In low enough doses to be considered safe, but they're radioactive nevertheless."_ He paused for a moment, and when Ronnie didn't respond, continued. _"Also, given that we are, of course, living beings, it's possible that we simply generated the energy required ourselves."_

Picking his way over the broken pavement of a long-abandoned parking lot, Ronnie approached the water's edge, staring out over the river that separated Central City from Keystone City, Kansas from Missouri.

"If we're generating the energy," he said, "then, like walking or… I don't know, talking, we should be able to control it."

 _"Unless the process is more like breathing, or sleeping – something necessary, or unconscious."_

"But we controlled it at STAR Labs, and it only happened in the first place when we lost control."

 _"True enough,"_ Stein conceded. _"I'd much rather believe your version of events regardless, but we must consider all possibilities."_

Ronnie'd rather believe his version too.

Well, they were as close to the water as they were going to get, and in the winter weather, with the cool breeze coming off the river, there was no one else in sight. "Shall we?" he asked.

* * *

Letting out the nuclear fire that connected them was apparently the easy part. Standing on the edge of the Missouri River, Martin and Ronald let go of the hold they had on it, and let the flames surround them once more. The water before them wasn't smooth, but even in its dark and ridged surface they could see the fire in their reflection.

Ronald stood there for a moment, neither of them speaking as they processed the new reality that was apparently their combined lives. Martin had to admit to himself that if Ronald was panicking more than he was at the moment, it was only because Martin had used up most of his panic yesterday, when he had woken to find himself trapped within a body that had moved regardless of what he had desired to do.

He wasn't a person anymore, not really, just a mind shoved into another man's body. What was a bit of nuclear fire, after a revelation like that?

So Martin gave Ronald a moment, then cleared his throat. (It felt like clearing his throat to him, and sounded like it, but the body he was inhabiting didn't move, and didn't make a sound.) He hadn't forgotten their argument, and he was certain the other man hadn't either, but there were more important things to focus on.

Ronald startled, coming back to himself, and looked away from their reflection. "Right," he said, blinking, and Martin could feel him steeling his resolve. He brought his hands up in front of him, turning them over and flexing his fingers as he studied the flames that flickered over them. "What now?"

 _"Well,"_ Martin started, thinking, _"the flames don't affect us. Perhaps we should see how they affect other things?"_ It was more suggestion than concrete thought. They were both hopelessly out of their depths, making things up as they went.

Ronald nodded, glanced around at their surroundings, and bent to pick up a rock from where the water lapped at the shore. It didn't feel any different in his (their) hand then it would have without the flames, but the effect was immediate.

The heat they gave off had already softened the stone, as the mineral compounds within it began to break apart. Ronald squeezed, and Martin felt the material give in their hand. When he dropped the rock to the ground once more, it was still glowing.

"Pretty hot then," Ronald said, and his tone was somewhat blank, stunned and disbelieving all at once. He bent over again, reaching for stray grasses and weeds that had managed to survive the rocky terrain. They shriveled and burnt before he could even touch them, and Ronald pulled back, straightening once more.

He looked at his hand again.

 _"This is real, Ronald,"_ Martin said, wondering if the younger man was once more doubting the stability of his own mind. It had to be real – Martin refused to believe otherwise. He tried to direct Ronald's attention to the rock on the ground, still glowing faintly, and the other man's eyes followed his nonverbal suggestion.

There was a moment's pause, and then he seemed to shake himself loose from the daze he had entered.

"Right." There was a short pause. "I feel like… like we can do more."

 _"Should we?"_

"We should know what we're capable of, right?"

 _"True… just…"_

"I know, that's why we came out here, right?"

Martin scanned their empty surroundings through Ronald's eyes again, then (mentally) nodded. _"Alright,"_ he conceded, _"let's see what we can do."_

* * *

Eobard Thawne had a decision to make, and he wasn't pleased. After Ronnie Raymond's supposed death in the particle accelerator, Eobard had assumed that Firestorm was no longer an issue. It had been no great loss: he'd kept Raymond close in order to have an eye on any other heroes that might have sprung into being, and no Firestorm was far better than a hero that might try and stop him.

Apparently, though, Raymond hadn't died, simply merged with Stein and gone missing for a time. Of course, Caitlin and Cisco hadn't said as much – he doubted they knew – but they'd mentioned Firestorm's pure white eyes, and Eobard had known the truth.

(The two of them were no doubt huddled together with worry at the moment, trying to figure out where Firestorm (Ronnie Raymond) had gone. Eobard, as Harrison Wells of course, had helped them during working hours at STAR Labs, but he had since returned home, offering to do research in his spare time that he had no intention of completing. Still pretending to adjust to life in a wheelchair, the two young geniuses had easily let him leave, despite their desire to find their friend.)

Now he just had to figure out what to do about the two-in-one metahuman. The way he saw it, he had three options: One, help them learn to harness their abilities and let them be a hero indebted to him, manipulating their actions so he had a nuclear-powered amalgam at his control. Risky, but Raymond already looked up to him, so it might be possible.

Two, help them unmerge, but make it seem as though the two halves of Firestorm couldn't combine again. If they never realized their potential, then there was no harm in letting Ronnie Raymond and Martin Stein live out their lives completely separate from each other, letting their time merged together become nothing more than a distant memory. Based on what Caitlin and Cisco had said, the two were a long way from discovering all that they were capable of.

Or the third option, eliminate one, or both, of the halves of Firestorm, thereby eliminating the possibility of interference from the hero. The third option seemed like the most straight-forward way to achieve his goal, but it carried complications. He'd have to get his hands dirty, and even if he destroyed the body, there would be people who noticed the disappearance. Now that Raymond and Stein were aware of each other, they would be suspicious if one of them were to disappear immediately after unmerging – and if he killed both of them, who knew if Stein's wife had been told that he was still alive yet, or how Caitlin and Cisco would react.

No, the third option would have to be a last resort, because it would gain too much attention, even if that attention wasn't focused on him. Although… he could always make sure it was obvious that the blame rested squarely on the shoulders of someone else. There were plenty of people in the world who would be willing to kill to have Firestorm's powers for themselves.

Yes, there was an idea. Perhaps it was time to find an excuse to pay an old ally a visit.

* * *

Ronnie had eaten breakfast at the apartment with Caitlin, and they'd gotten to STAR Labs fairly early in the morning. By the time the sun had since passed its peak and started to descend once more, he was still wandering the edge of the Missouri, covered in flames as his stomach reminded him of the time that had passed. The work day was probably already over (but he didn't have a watch, nor a cell phone, so he couldn't be one hundred percent certain of the time).

He hadn't stayed on the shore that he'd first come to, instead moving downstream with the river as he and Stein talked about FIRESTORM and nuclear powers and the fact that they were both living in the same body. He'd tested what their flames were capable of as well, flaring them higher, shrinking them to mere whispers. He'd thrown fireballs into the river, listening to the hiss of steam as they hit the much cooler water.

Now, Ronnie was ready for lunch (dinner, probably), but what they hadn't done yet was try to quench the flames altogether.

"Ready to try again?"

 _"On your mark, Mr. Raymond,"_ Stein agreed easily.

"Alright, three… two… one." Ronnie counted down softly, finding himself tensing as he prepared, but it went off without a hitch. The flames died, and this time, after the hours they'd spent practicing, Ronnie didn't have to look at his reflection to know that that was fact – he could feel it.

But he could also still feel the energy inside him, flickering and ready to come out as his command.

 _"That went well."_

"Sure," Ronnie said offhandedly, "but what if we get angry again?"

Rather than argue, Stein seemed to agree with him. _"Or startled,"_ he said easily. _"I merely said that it went well, not that we didn't still have a lot of work to do."_

Ronnie shook his head, ignoring Stein's stuffy tone, and pulled his wallet from his pocket, flipping it open. He'd grabbed it off his dresser that morning in the apartment, but he honestly wasn't sure what was still in it.

It seemed to be mostly untouched – his credit card had been taken out (and canceled no doubt) and his driver's license and insurance cards were gone, but his cash and coins and gift cards were all still there. He'd pulled out a gift card for Big Belly Burger and had flipped it over, wondering how much was left, before he remembered that he wasn't buying for two.

With all the conversation that had gone on between them, Ronnie had finally gotten used to Stein's presence – so much so that he'd almost forgotten that the other man wasn't actually there. At least, he wasn't physically present.

"Do you…?" he started to ask. "Are you actually hungry?"

They'd quenched their fires after agreeing to take a break, but while Stein had certainly been aware of Ronnie's stomach growling, he wasn't sure if the professor himself could actually get hungry.

 _"No more than you are,"_ Stein answered after a moment.

Ronnie pocketed his wallet again, moving away from the water front and towards civilization. "So you… feel what I feel?"

 _"Physically yes, that seems to be the case. But I'd like to think that my emotions are distinct from yours."_

Were they though? No, of course they had to be, right? But was the apprehension that Ronnie was feeling his own, or Stein's?

"Two brains, one body, right?" he asked, his own uncertainty fairly obvious as he parroted a phrase of the professor's from their earlier discussion.

 _"I… that is what we agreed upon,"_ Stein answered unhelpfully, and he was equally uncertain – but was Ronnie feeling the professor's uncertainty, or just projecting his own?

"But we… we've disagreed on things."

 _"We've argued,"_ Stein countered, _"but we were both upset, or frustrated, or angry."_

"Caitlin," Ronnie said suddenly, thinking. "You couldn't have felt the same way as I did when we first saw Caitlin."

He didn't really know what the professor looked like, aside from the one photograph he'd seen of the man (his faculty profile picture had been used in his missing person's report), but at that moment, Ronnie could just picture Stein furrowing his eyebrows, thinking hard.

 _"No, I… I was aware of what you were feeling, but I didn't feel it myself."_

Ronnie felt as though a weight he hadn't been aware he was carrying had been lifted off his chest. "So, one body, two connected brains," he corrected his earlier statement.

 _"Indeed."_

* * *

It was a good thing Ronnie had kept his sunglasses with him, because dinner was going to be awkward enough as it was without any additional stares. Last night, in the apartment, Ronnie had been hungry enough to eat what was put in front of him, without thinking of the voice (and the person) inside his head.

Now, he and Stein knew more about their situation, and their roles, and as he approached the fast food joint, Ronnie couldn't help but think that he was eating for two. Could Stein dislike something that Ronnie enjoyed?

"You're Jewish, right?" he muttered under his breath outside the store. "That means no pork?"

 _"I…. yes,"_ Stein responded quietly. _"Though I must admit I don't always follow kosher."_

"Burger and fries then?" Ronnie muttered again, pulling open the door. Now that he was aware of the separation and connections between them, Ronnie could feel the faint stirrings of the professor's gratitude.

 _"That would be fine,"_ Stein said, and Ronnie fell silent as he entered the restaurant.

* * *

"We should head back," Ronnie said eventually, after he'd finished his quick meal and made his way onto the street once more. It was a fairly gloomy day – overcast and cold, with a strong breeze – and there were no pedestrians around to overhear his half of the conversation.

 _"To STAR Labs?"_ Stein asked in confusion.

Ronnie shook his head. "Our– Caitlin's and my apartment." He didn't expect the professor to agree immediately, but unable to converse while he'd eaten, Ronnie had had plenty of time to think.

 _"And what of the danger we pose?"_

"If anyone can help us with our problem," Ronnie replied, "Caitlin can. Especially with Cisco and Dr. Wells to help."

 _"And the equipment at STAR Labs, I suppose,"_ Stein reluctantly agreed.

"Besides, if we're going to visit your wife, a car would be helpful."

Ronnie could feel Stein's surprise at the statement, and his elation at the idea. It was his way of apologizing for ignoring Stein's problems before, when the existence of the other man hadn't quite felt real to Ronnie. (Though all things considered, Ronnie figured he'd handled things relatively well for a man in his position.)

And besides… "If we're going to convince anyone of the truth, we'll need all the help we can get," he continued. Caitlin might not believe him about Stein, but if they managed to convince Clarissa, then that might be enough evidence that he hadn't gone crazy.

* * *

Cisco wasn't sure what to expect when Caitlin called him only an hour after they'd left STAR Labs, voice hesitant and uncertain as she asked him to come over. All he got out of her before she hung up was that Ronnie had returned, and from that he surmised that his best friend still wasn't acting like himself. There was no telling what he would find at their apartment.

Caitlin answered the door when he knocked, worried expression on her face, but Ronnie was right behind her, sunglasses off, and they didn't stand aside to let him in.

"We're not staying," she said, with a hesitant glance backward at her fiancé.

Cisco hesitated himself, confused by the tension in the air, then stepped aside to let them into the hallway with him.

"I have something I need to tell both of you," Ronnie said, "but there's someone else who should be a part of the conversation."

"Dr. Wells?" Cisco asked in confusion, exchanging hopeless glances with Caitlin behind the other man's back as Ronnie led them toward the parking lot.

"No. Well, yes, eventually, but I was… there's someone else."

"Who?" Caitlin asked, no small amount of desperation in her tone. It was clear to Cisco that it was a question she had already asked.

Ronnie grimaced, inhaling deeply, and looked between both of them as they approached the car. "Look, I just… I need you two to trust me. I promise, I'll explain everything, just… when we get there."

Cisco tried to meet his friend's gaze, but he found the pure white of Ronnie's eyes too unsettling, too strange. He looked away. But the thing was, while he was worried about Ronnie, worried about where he'd been and what had happened to him, mostly he was just relieved to have him back. Relived that Ronnie hadn't died that night (relieved that he hadn't played a part in his best friend's death).

He glanced over at Caitlin, knowing then, in the way that friends did, that Ronnie had only intended to talk to her and the mysterious individual he refused to name, but that Caitlin had called him for moral support. She met his gaze with a weak smile, looking scared for Ronnie.

"We're with you man," Cisco said for the both of them, turning back to Ronnie. "We trust you." This was Ronnie they were talking about, and whatever had happened to him, wherever he'd been, he was still the man who had become Cisco's best friend and Caitlin's fiancé.

Relief colored Ronnie's expression at the words. "Thank you. I promise," he repeated, "I'll explain everything."

Cisco nodded once, holding Ronnie to his word, and got in the car.

For a while Cisco recognized the streets and neighborhoods, but as Ronnie drove them north, outside of the city limits and into the suburbs, it was pretty clear to him that he had no idea of where the other man was going.

The car ride passed in awkward silence, Caitlin unmoving in the passenger's seat, Cisco sitting with his hands clenched in the backseat, a knot of worry in his stomach. Ronnie glanced between the both of them on occasion, but he didn't say anything. (Cisco wondered, not for the first time as he met Ronnie's gaze in the rearview mirror, how his friend was capable of seeing at all, and if he saw the world differently now.)

They pulled into the driveway of an ordinary looking home – nice enough, and in a nice enough neighborhood, but nothing that would stand out – and Ronnie turned off the car.

Exchanging yet another glance with Caitlin, Cisco followed Ronnie's lead and unbuckled his seat belt, exiting the car. He thought he heard Ronnie mutter something under his breath as the other man shut his door, putting his sunglasses on once more, but he didn't manage to catch what he said. The knot in his stomach twisted again with worry as they made their way to the front door, so much so that Cisco almost felt sick with anxiety. What if something was seriously wrong with Ronnie?

An older woman answered the door, looking tired and worn out, glancing between the three of them in confusion as they stood there on her front stoop.

"Mrs. Stein?" Ronnie asked, more courtesy than question.

"Yes?" she responded, and it was then, hearing the uncertainty in her voice, that Cisco realized she had no idea who Ronnie was. He exchanged another worried glance with Caitlin.

"Mrs. Stein," Ronnie repeated, "I… I know where your husband is."

The woman's mouth parted slightly in surprise, and she stared at Ronnie for a moment before her gaze flickered madly over the rest of them, as though her husband was simply standing right behind them. "Martin?" she asked desperately. "You've seen him, you know where he is?"

Cisco almost took a step back at the intensity of her questions, and his gaze moved to Ronnie. Ronnie had better know what he was doing.

"I… it's a long story," Ronnie said. "But yes, I've talked to him, and I know where he is."

Mrs. Stein (apparently) looked around again, deflating slightly. "Where… where is he?"

"It's a long story," Ronnie repeated. "May we come in?"

"Yes, yes, of course." The woman ushered them inside, closing the door behind them, and directing them toward the couches nearby.

Cisco followed Ronnie hesitantly, aware of the tension and the suspense that filled the room. Did Ronnie really know where this woman's (apparently missing) husband was? Had he been lying about not remembering the month he'd been gone? Moving into the living room, he let Caitlin take the middle of the couch, letting Ronnie sit closest to Mrs. Stein and sitting next to Caitlin himself for moral support.

"When did you see Martin?" Mrs. Stein repeated hurriedly, worry in her tone as they sat. "Is he alright?"

"He's… well, it's a long story," Ronnie said for the third time, glancing between the three confused people who had followed him. "How much do you know about the professor's – Martin's work?"

The professor – so Martin Stein was a teacher.

"His… his work?" Mrs. Stein asked in confusion. "He's a nuclear physicist, but what does that have to do with his disappearance?"

"Everything," Ronnie answered. "On the night of the particle accelerator explosion, he was carrying the FIRESTORM matrix with him."

As Ronnie paused, Mrs. Stein nodded. "Yes, yes, it… it was his life's work."

"Nuclear transmutation," Ronnie agreed. "It… it worked."

Mrs. Stein wasn't the only one staring at Ronnie in confusion, and Cisco felt hopelessness fusing with his own tumultuous thoughts. He wanted to apologize to this woman, for coming to her house and giving her false hope, but before he could think of what to say or how to say it, Ronnie was speaking again.

"I was inside the accelerator when it exploded," he said, "and Stein – your husband – was outside. When the wave of energy hit, the FIRESTORM matrix took over and it… it fused us."

Mrs. Stein frowned, shaking her head in confusion, but it was Caitlin who spoke.

"What are you saying, Ronnie?" she asked, tone a complicated mixture of confusion and hopelessness and worry.

"I'm saying that… that your husband, Dr. Martin Stein," he clarified, turning to Caitlin and Cisco on the couch, "is right here. He and I… we're both here. Nuclear fusion of… of two living beings." He took off his sunglasses and turned his pure white gaze onto Mrs. Stein.

She didn't flinch. "You're saying Martin is… he's…"

"He loves you," Ronnie said, a small fond smile on his face as he looked at her.

"It was Cisco's turn to shake his head. "Ronnie," he said hesitantly, "I know you've been through a lot, but are you sure we should be–"

Ronnie cut him off. "I'm not imagining things," he said firmly. (Cisco wasn't sure if he was imagining the touch of desperation in his friend's tone or not.) He turned back to Mrs. Stein. "Ask me anything, I promise Martin is here."

The older woman only shook her head, seemingly torn between her desire to find her husband and the absurdity of what Ronnie was suggesting.

"He… he took the train to STAR Labs," Ronnie said, talking quickly but pausing somewhat every now and again, as if trying to remember properly (or as if he was relaying someone else's words, part of Cisco's mind suggested). "He left right from work. You… you knew he was going to, you'd discussed it over dinner the previous night – steak and salad and mashed potatoes. With a bottle of red wine – the 1994 merlot."

Mrs. Stein let out a small gasp, teetering toward belief, even as Cisco and Caitlin listened with rising alarm. Could what Ronnie was saying be true?

"Martin?" Mrs. Stein asked.

"He's sorry," Ronnie told her gently. "Neither of us remember the past month at all. He thought of you as soon as we woke up."

But Caitlin shook her head. "No," she said, "no, that's not possible. Ronnie, you can't…"

Ronnie tried to reach out and take her hand, but Caitlin pulled her hand from his grip as soon as he did so.

"I'm sorry, Cait," he said, and there was a genuine apology in his tone, "but it's not just me in here anymore."

Mrs. Stein didn't seem to have as much trouble believing (or maybe she was just desperate for news of the one she loved). She reached out and took the hand still on Ronnie's lap (the one that hadn't stretched toward Caitlin).

"Martin?" she repeated, meeting Ronnie's pure white gaze head on. (Ronnie and Stein's pure white gaze? Cisco wondered.)

Ronnie turned to her again. "I'm not him," he said, "but he's here."

Next to Cisco, Caitlin shook her head again, standing. "Ronnie," she said, and her voice was soft and gentle, as if trying not to spook an injured animal, "c'mon. We should… we should go see a doctor."

"I'm telling the truth, Caitlin," Ronnie argued firmly.

"What you're saying isn't possible," Caitlin returned, glancing between Cisco and Mrs. Stein as if looking for an ally. "Look Mrs. Stein, I know you want to find your husband, but he's not here. I'm sorry about this."

"Caitlin," Ronnie said, standing, and pulling his hand from the grip Mrs. Stein had had on him in the process.

"Ronnie, you need help. If you're hallucinating…"

"I'm not hallucinating," Ronnie said.

Sensing the tension in the room (in the stranger's house they were in), Cisco stood as well, placing both hands up as he filled the gap between Caitlin and Ronnie. "Hold on now," he said, trying to project calm, "let's just think about this rationally."

"We need to convince _both_ of them," Ronnie said suddenly, his words not clearly directed at anyone.

All three of them froze, and turned to stare at him, and it took Ronnie a moment to realize what he had done.

"I was talking to Stein," Ronnie said.

Cisco wasn't sure yet whether or not he was ready to believe that there was another person sharing Ronnie's body, but whether or not he believed it, he was sure of one thing – Ronnie certainly believed it.

"I can't do this," Caitlin said, pain etched onto her face (it was a look all too familiar to Cisco, after the past month). "Ronnie, you need to see a doctor."

Ronnie glanced between her and Mrs. Stein. "I need you to believe me, Caitlin," he said.

"I…" Caitlin looked lost, and hurt.

"I can prove it," Ronnie argued.

"Stating facts about… about this man's life isn't enough," Caitlin said. "You could have spoken to him at any point during the month you were missing."

"Look," Mrs. Stein said suddenly, taking a step toward Caitlin, "I… I don't really know if I believe him either, but he knows things that only Martin and I knew. My husband… Martin is a scientist. If he's really in there, maybe, maybe we can try and figure this out together. Scientifically."

Caitlin glanced toward the older woman uncertainly.

"How about a compromise?" Cisco offered. "No hospitals, but the four of us go back to STAR Labs and run some more tests?"

"STAR Labs?" Mrs. Stein asked in concern. "But… they're the ones who…"

Cisco wasn't in the mood to hear his employer disparaged at the moment (he'd heard enough of that already from everybody else). "We've got the equipment to handle it, and Caitlin and I know how to operate it," he said firmly.

Nobody answered him – each of them seemed to be waiting for someone else to speak first: Mrs. Stein was looking hesitantly at Ronnie, as though searching for a trace of her husband, Ronnie was staring anxiously at Caitlin, no doubt hoping for her to agree to the terms, and Caitlin herself was looking uncertainly between the three hopeful people in the room.

Cisco raised an eyebrow at his friend, shrugging ever so slightly. The way he saw it, this was the best offer they were going to get.

"Alright," Caitlin agreed, voice heavy. "Let's head back to STAR Labs."

* * *

The car ride was awkward and silent. Caitlin had insisted on driving, worried about Ronnie's mental state, and Ronnie had graciously insisted that Mrs. Stein take the passenger seat (which, quite frankly, didn't say anything about whether or not the woman's husband was in his head, because Ronnie would have done that on his own anyway). That left Cisco in the backseat with either one or two other people, and the problem was that he wasn't sure which statement was true.

Eventually though, Mrs. Stein broke the silence. She twisted around in her seat, turning to look at Ronnie, and there was hope and trepidation in her eyes.

"Is Martin… is he alright?" she asked.

Ronnie gave her a gentle smile. "He's… well… Apart from not having a body of his own, he's fine." The words were tenuous and uncertain, despite Ronnie's attempts to sound confident. But Ronnie cleared his throat, and tried again.

"He says he's fine," he repeated, a bit more firmly than before.

Silence fell again.

"Are you alright?" Ronnie asked again after a moment, but there wasn't much concern behind the words. (Then again, there wouldn't be much concern or emotion at all if Ronnie was just playing telephone with Professor Stein, repeating his words rather than voicing his own thoughts and questions. Cisco didn't know what to think.) "How… how have things been?"

Mrs. Stein smiled weakly at Ronnie. "I… I've been managing. I miss him, you," she corrected.

Ronnie's returning smile was just as weak, and silence fell in the car once more until they reached their destination.

As they exited Caitlin's car and made their way to STAR Labs, Ronnie paused after only a few steps, bringing the rest of them to a halt as well, and returned the conversation to the reason they were there so late at night.

"Look," he said, "I… I have proof, at the very least, that I'm not just Ronnie anymore. That the FIRESTORM matrix, the nuclear power, it changed me, changed us."

He took several steps back from them, glancing around the parking lot as if to ensure that it really was empty and abandoned and then, without giving them any chance to respond, he burst into flames.

All three of them let out shouts of alarm. Cisco flinched backward, Mrs. Stein gaped in surprise, and Caitlin took a worried step forward.

"Don't get too close," Ronnie warned them, taking another step backward, "I still don't have it completely under control, and it's dangerous."

Yeah, it was. Even from a few feet away, Cisco could feel the heat Ronnie (and Stein?) was giving off. It was far from overwhelming, but it was definitely noticeable. It was also more than enough proof for him: Professor Stein's nuclear experiment had fused him, and it, with Ronnie.

"Ronnie," Caitlin said, and despite his words, she took another step forward.

Ronnie quickly let his flames die, and Cisco's heart, which had been beating rapidly in his chest, finally began to still.

"That," he said pointedly, once he'd gotten his breath back, "was awesome." Cisco wasn't pretending that everything was fine – Ronnie had been smashed together with a stranger and his experiment, apparently – but his best friend could light on fire. It was like something out of a comic book.

Caitlin and Mrs. Stein sent wary glances in his direction, but Ronnie echoed his grin with a faint one of his own.

"Pretty cool, right?" he asked, and Cisco could see his best friend again, standing before him.

Most of his worries or concerns evaporated just then, because Ronnie was back. He wasn't dead, and Cisco hadn't killed him.

"Uh, yeah!" Cisco said obviously. "You're like a superhero."

Ronnie frowned, but it didn't seem to be in response to Cisco's own words, given that his gaze was focused on nothing in particular. "Just don't get too close," he warned after a moment. "We're still… working things out."

"You said the professor invented the… what did you call it?"

"FIRESTORM matrix."

"That," Cisco decided, "would make an awesome superhero name."

"Firestorm," Caitlin said next to him, as if trying out the word. She met Ronnie's pure white gaze. "That's what we can call you – the two of you, together."

Ronnie grimaced. "Caitlin, it's still me…" he started to say.

"I know," Caitlin was quick to reassure him, "I know Ronnie, but…" she glanced over at Mrs. Stein. "Like you said, it's not just you anymore, is it?"

Mrs. Stein returned Caitlin's hesitant smile with one of her own and, to Cisco's slight surprise, reached over and grasped Caitlin's hand firmly. "Let's… let's figure this out," she said, gaining strength and confidence as she spoke, glancing around their group of four (or should he say five?). "Together."

They all nodded and Cisco decided that, whatever happened next, he rather liked Mrs. Stein.

* * *

The silence wasn't nearly so awkward now, after Caitlin and Cisco and Mrs. Stein had seen the fire that was inside of them. Ronnie was pretty sure they all believed him now, which was what he wanted, but he couldn't help but focus on the hesitant way Caitlin looked at him, or her idea not to call him by name.

Yes, he wasn't just Ronnie anymore, and to call him Ronnie was to ignore Stein, but… Ronnie pushed such thoughts from his head. Caitlin was just being polite, acknowledging that two people now stood where it looked like there was only one, and if there was any other reasoning behind her actions… Well, they could discuss it later.

 _But not privately_ , his inner voice reminded him. Ronnie ignored that too.

"Where should we start?" he asked as they entered the lab.

Caitlin and Cisco exchanged glances.

"Well…" Caitlin began hesitantly, "we can try measuring your brainwaves? And the fire, it explains your higher temperature." She moved as she spoke, gaining confidence in her decisions and searching for the equipment she would need. "Also, I can run a more in-depth scan of your blood."

"Is he… are they healthy?" Mrs. Stein interrupted anxiously. Ronnie could feel Stein's worry and focus for his wife, but he'd already reassured her that Stein was fine, and he wasn't sure what else he could say. (Given that Stein didn't speak up just then, the older man was likely feeling similarly.)

Caitlin gave her a gentle smile. "As far as we can tell, yes," she said. "But these tests will tell us more."

Mrs. Stein nodded gratefully, but she still looked slightly anxious.

"Here," Caitlin turned toward Ronnie, pushing him slightly into a nearby chair and neatly distracting him from his thoughts.

And with that, they got to work.

* * *

Blood work took time, but their brain waves were projected onto the computer screen in front of them as they sat there.

Caitlin frowned anxiously at the readouts. "I'm not… seeing anything that would indicate another person."

But that was Caitlin's area of expertise, not Ronnie's, and he could offer no suggestions. "I don't know what to tell you," he said, "but Stein's definitely in here."

In fact, there was a sort of disgruntled satisfaction at Ronnie's words, as though Stein was crossing his arms and waiting for everyone else to accept what he and Ronnie already knew.

"And you can… you can talk to him?"

"Easily. But… it's more than that."

 _"We seem to be capable of discerning each other's emotions,"_ Stein agreed with him.

Ronnie nodded, before the blank stares in the room reminded him that his friends couldn't hear what he could. "We can feel each other's emotions too," he explained.

"Meaning…?"

"Meaning that I know right now that Stein's a bit put out that none of you are willing to believe that he actually exists."

Mrs. Stein took a step forward, looking distraught. "Martin…" she started.

"Oh, not you," Ronnie quickly corrected before Stein could say anything. He gestured toward his friends. "Just you two, no offense."

Mrs. Stein smiled weakly in response and Cisco and Caitlin exchanged glances.

 _"I'll thank you not to upset my wife any more than she already is, Ronald,"_ Stein said pointedly.

Ronnie rolled his eyes but, to get Stein off his back (and because he did feel a bit guilty about his thoughtless words), he turned to the older woman. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't mean anything by it."

She smiled and nodded faintly, but Cisco snapping his fingers drew everyone's attention back to the brain waves on the screen.

"You said you could feel each other's emotions, right?" he asked, then continued speaking without waiting for a response. "What if that's why you're not picking anything up Caitlin? Because their brain waves…"

"… are completely in sync!" Caitlin finished for him. She turned toward the monitors again. "That would explain why the signal's so clear – because it's been doubled!"

Well, that was a step forward at least. Now they had proof Stein was in Ronnie's head (and that was a weight off both their shoulders, however much they'd already convinced themselves that they weren't hallucinating) – they just had to figure out what to do about it.

* * *

When Eobard arrived at STAR Labs the next day, stuck in his stupid chair so long as he was around other people, Caitlin and Cisco and Firestorm were waiting for him.

"Ronnie," he said warmly, putting on a fond and pleased smile. He stuck out his hand for the two men to shake. "It's good to see you again."

Ronnie grinned in response, taking the hand firmly. "You too. I'm sorry about…" he gestured vaguely toward the chair.

Eobard-as-Harrison shook his head. "No need to apologize," he said firmly, "if it wasn't for you, things could have been a whole lot worse."

Ronnie grinned modestly at the praise, more of a grimace really, and glanced between his two friends. "Actually, about what happened…"

Between the three of them, they managed to tell him about Firestorm and Martin Stein and the nuclear power at Ronnie's fingertips. Of course, they stammered and stuttered and hesitated, which made sense given that they had no clue he already knew everything they were saying, and most certainly believed them, but was annoying nevertheless.

When they had finished, all three of them were looking at him uncertainly, and Eobard was once more reminded of the power he had over these people's lives. By making himself their mentor, Eobard could have crushed them right then, could have devastated them with a few carefully chosen words. But as much as he hated his current existence, he still needed at least one of them, until Barry had woken up and was fast enough to take him home.

So, he met their gazes seriously, shifting his expression to make it look like he was thinking hard, before finally locking eyes with Caitlin. "If the three of you say you have evidence," he said firmly, "then I believe you. Show me what you got."

And with relief on their faces, the three before him splayed out their work in the open for him to see and pick through as he wished, all in the guise of helping them.

He'd made his calls though, reconnected with General Eiling. The minute he managed to convince Firestorm to split, Martin Stein's life would effectively be over. Eobard needed _someone_ to stay at STAR Labs with him (honestly, Caitlin, Cisco, _or_ Ronnie would do), but he had no use for a nuclear-powered superhero or a scientist who didn't look up to him.

* * *

 **AN: Here's the next chapter for those of you interested - one again beta read by radpineapple!**

 **I will take any corrections regarding Martin's Jewish faith, as I am not Jewish myself, if I got anything wrong.**

 **Let me know what you think, and thanks for sticking around!**


	3. Taken Prisoner

"What if you just… try and unfuse?"

They'd been working for two days at STAR Labs, him and Ronald, Dr. Snow and Mr. Ramon, and Dr. Wells, with Clarissa hovering in the background. Through him, but not without errors and small arguments caused by their short tempers and fear of what they were capable of if they lost control, Ronald had painstakingly written Martin's FIRESTORM equations on every surface available to him.

At first, Martin had bristled at displaying his research so openly to other scientists – this was his _life's_ work they were asking to see – but a glance at Clarissa (looking at his wife through someone else's eyes) was enough to set his priorities straight. There were more important things than work, and after everything that Clarissa had gone through the past month without him, it was high time he realized that.

So, they were surrounded by his work and his equations, going over all that he could remember about the FIRESTORM matrix now in their blood, and what it was capable of. Everyone had helped in any way they could – even Clarissa, who forced them to stop and drink and eat every now and again – but the going was slow, given that Martin could only speak through Ronald.

Now, Ronald turned toward Dr. Wells, who had spoken, surprise filling the both of them.

"What?" they asked in unison, though only Ronald's words were heard by the room.

"Well," Dr. Wells explained, "there's nothing I've seen in your research so far that suggests the transmutations aren't reversible. Given that there seems to be a mental component to your usage of the FIRESTORM matrix…" he trailed off suggestively.

 _"We might simply be able to unfuse!"_ Martin finished for him in astonishment, chiding himself for not having come up with the solution on his own and amazed with the simplicity of the idea.

But no one but Ronald could hear his words or knew of his agreement, and the other three in the room were watching Firestorm (as the two of them had taken to being called) uncertainly.

"Just… think about separating?" Ronald asked uncertainly. Martin wasn't sure whether he was speaking to him or Dr. Wells.

"There's no place like home," Mr. Ramon quipped uncertainly, offering his friend a hesitant smile and a shrug.

Ronald shook his head. "Not here," he said.

Excitement dying down somewhat as he considered the logistics, Martin found himself agreeing with the young man. _"Indeed,"_ he said, and he chanced another glance at Clarissa through Ronald's eyes.

"We can try in the accelerator," Dr. Snow offered hesitantly. "It should be able to contain you."

 _"No."_ Martin spoke quickly, sensing that Ronald was about to nod in agreement, and his word stopped the other half of Firestorm in his tracks. _"Unstable nuclear fission could have catastrophic consequences. We cannot rush into this, and we probably should not even remain within the city limits."_

Dr. Wells was nodding as Martin spoke, unknowingly interrupting him. "It's an accelerator, it'll contain nuclear fission."

Ronald was torn between two conflicting opinions, and his hesitation showed. "The professor thinks we should take this slowly. If our… fission, is unstable…"

"There's no reason to think it should be," Dr. Wells countered. "If fact, you theorized that you two are actually _absorbing_ radiation. There shouldn't be any danger."

 _"Theorized,"_ Martin emphasized, well aware that he was speaking only to Ronald. _"We don't know enough."_

Ronald's fear of hurting his loved ones won out over his trust in his mentor. "I don't know," he said hesitantly, "maybe we should…"

Dr. Wells spun his chair around to face a particular whiteboard, pointing at an equation. "Professor Stein's own equations practically say that there's no reason you should ever give off any radiation."

Still Ronald hesitated, and this time Martin got the feeling he was waiting for him to agree.

 _"He is right about that,"_ Martin said reluctantly. _"But I still have no desire to test that in the middle of the city."_

"Alright," Ronnie voiced out loud. "We'll give it a try, but… not in Central City. We want to go somewhere isolated."

Dr. Snow looked as if she was about to speak, but Ronald interrupted her.

"Alone." He met his fiancée's gaze firmly, and Martin wished that he would turn and give him a view of his wife (but he had no control over Ronald's movements).

* * *

In the end, it was all actually rather anticlimactic.

Google Maps quickly helped them locate a relatively isolated section of land, far enough from other people but not too far to drive, and then, with hugs and wishes of luck, they were off.

Ronnie and Stein both spent the drive in silence – there was nothing to say, really – and once they'd reached their destination, they only wished each other luck before they got down to business. What did you say to a stranger you barely knew, but whose life was impossibly entwined with your own?

If they failed, they would either return together to search for an alternative, or they wouldn't return at all. And even if they succeeded, they would still be returning together. There really wasn't anything to say, given all that.

Standing a few feet from his car, the fire came first. This time, neither Ronnie nor Stein attempted to hold it back and it blazed high before shifting to a different sort of light entirely. Ronnie focused on separating, on physically pulling apart from Martin Stein, and it seemed to be working. He felt almost… insubstantial. He could no longer feel the wind on his face or the Earth beneath his feet, but he could feel himself moving forward ever so slightly.

It was over in mere seconds, before Ronnie could put words to what, exactly, he was feeling, or figure out exactly what had happened. Ronnie stumbled forward on solid ground once more, and he could hear footsteps beside him that indicated another person was doing the same. Without even turning to look, he knew it had worked.

When he'd first woken as Firestorm, he hadn't been aware of how much he had changed; now he was keenly aware of the professor's absence, and the lack of fire running through his veins. He turned, grin on his face, to find an older man smiling back at him. About his height, with white hair and glasses, Stein matched the few photographs Ronnie had seen of the man.

The lightness of being one instead of two filled him, elevating his mood.

Ronnie let out a breathless laugh. "It worked, Professor!" he exclaimed, not even caring that he sounded like a giddy child. It had _worked_.

"Indeed it did, dear boy," Stein replied, equally as ecstatic and uncaring about letting it show. His voice was exactly as Ronnie had heard it in his head, if slightly more real to him. "And without any noticeable side effects."

Their eyes met, elation and joy within both their gazes, and there was no awkwardness at that moment, just relief. But neither of them had forgotten everything that had happened, and their gazes shifted toward Ronnie's car.

Without speaking, they both moved toward it, Ronnie pulling Cisco's phone out of his pocket as he did so.

"Caitlin," he said, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice as Caitlin picked up on the first ring, "it worked!" He slipped into the driver's seat as Stein took the passenger's, and wasn't that amazing: after three days of knowing the man but not seeing him, Stein was finally next to him.

Caitlin gushed and laughed, and Ronnie promised her that he was fine, but they could talk when he got back – he wanted to start the drive immediately. With one final "I love you," he passed the phone to Stein and started the car.

This time the drive had an air of excitement underlying it, rather than the somber tension of before, and Ronnie practically skidded to a stop in the STAR Labs parking lot, barely able to keep from speeding as they neared home.

Rather than waiting inside, everyone was standing around waiting for them to return, and Ronnie swallowed Caitlin into his arms as Stein embraced his wife.

"There were no problems then?" Dr. Wells asked as Ronnie pulled apart from his fiancée, tears of joy on both their cheeks.

"Not a one," he agreed, glancing over at Stein.

The older man nodded. "Indeed. It was so easy I can't help but scold myself for not thinking of it earlier."

"Martin…" Mrs. Stein chided softly as Dr. Wells shook his head.

"Sometimes an outside perspective helps," the scientist said charitably.

Stein nodded again in assent, still holding his wife close. "Well then, I suppose we should have one last check up before we part ways?" He glanced toward Caitlin, and Ronnie followed his gaze.

"Of course," Caitlin agreed easily.

She worked quickly and fluidly, and in less than a half hour, both Ronnie and Stein had been declared healthy.

"Well then," Stein said, standing once more and taking his wife's hand. "I must thank you all again for your help but I don't believe any of you would begrudge us if Clarissa and I took our leave." He paused in front of Ronnie, and stuck out his free hand. "Ronald."

They'd spent the past three days stuck together, Martin trapped within Ronnie, and it was still strange to hear Stein's voice while looking into his face. Ronnie shook his hand. "Professor Stein," he returned, equally as cordially.

Stein nodded at the rest of the room, then left with his wife.

Ronnie wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel something, watching Stein walk away, but he didn't. The truth was, they'd only known each other for a few days, and they hadn't been very good days (though, under the circumstances, they hadn't been terrible). He didn't think he would miss Stein, but he wasn't glad to see him go either. He wondered if he would ever see the man again.

"Could've been a superhero," Cisco said in dismay as Ronnie turned back towards his friends, but from the wide grin on his face Ronnie knew he was joking.

"Could've been," he agreed, and his voice held no regrets.

* * *

Martin had wondered if there would be an adjustment period, after getting his own body back, but he was no more unsteady on his feet than he had been beforehand. There was a noticeable difference, of course, between his body and Ronald's, and he was aware of his limbs and organs and the sensory input he was receiving in a way he never had been before, but it didn't feel strange, to be himself again, despite the month he'd apparently gone without a body.

But while the experience hadn't exactly been traumatic, Martin had still been confined, unable to move or speak to anyone but Ronald. As fascinating as the development of the FIRESTORM matrix had been, Martin was not interested in trying to repeat his results. This was one experiment he felt he could safely abandon – especially given its own safety concerns.

Martin could still remember the fire that he and Ronald had controlled, and the danger it presented. Between forcing two unwilling people together, and giving them access to a power no one man should have, FIRESTORM was a project that did not need to see the light of day again. Some vague statement of Dr. Wells', about the cost being too high for certain scientific advancements (his accelerator included), had stuck in his mind even when he'd been stuck in Ronald's.

Which was why, after spending the evening with his wife, Martin was now making his way to his office long after the winter sun had set. He wanted things over and done with, wanted Firestorm out of anyone's else's hands. He'd seen the evidence of the grief he'd caused his wife, and he wanted to move toward fixing it.

Even knowing what she did, it had been a task convincing Clarissa to let him out of her sight. But they both knew the dangers of Firestorm. One night, an hour or two cleaning out his research, and then Martin would return home to Clarissa and they could put the past behind them.

Shifting his car into park and turning off his engine, Martin stepped out into the dark and cold winter night. He wanted to be quick, but he also needed to be thorough. Still, it wouldn't take long.

* * *

It felt later than it was. Before, Ronnie used to routinely stay up to eleven or midnight, and it wasn't even nine yet – but between the pitch-black darkness of winter and the exhaustion from the past few days, he could have fallen asleep just then. He didn't move.

Caitlin was curled up next to him on the couch, still awake as well, and given how reluctant she'd been to touch him once she'd learned about Stein, Ronnie wasn't about to do or say anything that might end in her moving: not even suggesting turning in for the night.

Besides, Cisco sat in the chair next to the couch, feet tucked under him, beer in hand. The three of them had simply talked, for hours upon returning to the apartment, finally catching up now that they were alone.

Ronnie had had a difficult few days, but his friends had had a tough month, weeks of thinking he was dead, of mourning him. They'd attended his funeral, which was something Ronnie hadn't even considered until Cisco had mentioned it a few minutes ago. None of them wanted to move, and none of them wanted to be apart.

"My parents…?" Ronnie asked hesitantly. He loved both of them, and called them up on birthdays and holidays, if they didn't call him first, but they weren't close – not to him or to each other. Still, losing your only child…

Cisco winced, glancing away. "They were pretty devastated, man. I think your mom even went back to Coast City with your dad."

Ronnie felt a surge of guilt at the thought of their suffering, made all the worse by the fact that he didn't regret the decision he'd made to enter the accelerator. He'd saved lives, and it had been worth it, but that didn't mean he could brush aside the suffering his parents were going through.

At his side, as if knowing what he was thinking, Caitlin's hand squeezed tighter in his and she shifted from her spot leaning on his shoulder to look up at him. Ronnie smiled down at her. He couldn't even begin to imagine what _she'd_ gone through.

Before Ronnie could say anything in response though, to either Caitlin or Cisco, he felt a sudden wave of dizziness, the urge to sleep surging forward stronger than it had thus far that night. He closed his eyes against the onslaught, yawning. Something was trying to pull him into unconsciousness, but Ronnie fought back, blinking himself awake again.

"You alright?" Cisco was asking when he managed to refocus.

Ronnie gave an easy shrug, mindful of Caitlin half-drowsing on his shoulder. "It's been a long few days."

Caitlin hummed in agreement, the sound moving through her jaw and vibrating against Ronnie's left side.

Cisco shifted in his seat, pulling his feet out from under him and placing them on the floor. Uncertainty entered his expression.

"Why don't you take the guest room?" Ronnie suggested before his friend could say anything.

"You sure?"

"Of course," Caitlin said, pushing herself upright. "We should all get some sleep, and you're in no condition to leave."

Cisco had taken the bus, and he was still nursing his second beer, but they all knew what she meant. Together the three of them pulled themselves upright, flowing around each other as they cleaned up their snacks and drinks and shared the one bathroom to get ready for bed. As expected, Ronnie drifted off as soon as his head hit the pillow, thankful to be alone in his mind once more.

Unexpectedly, he woke to a jolt of fear several hours later, early in the morning, heart pounding far faster than Ronnie figured it had any right to. Whatever nightmare had woken him though, he didn't remember it.

Ronnie tried to get his heartbeat under control, regulating his breathing, but he was freezing too, shivering under his covers. Had the heat turned off overnight? He shivered again, brain muddled as it tried to figure out what to focus on: the terror that was taking longer to dissipate than Ronnie expected, or the unexpected cold.

Taking another deep breath, Ronnie glanced over at Caitlin. Still fast asleep, she didn't seem bothered by the cold. Ronnie tried ducking back under the covers, but a minute or two was enough for him to realize he wouldn't get back to sleep that way.

Shivering, he reluctantly pulled himself out from under his blankets to check the thermostat in the hall. His heartbeat had calmed down, but the terror was still present in the back of his mind and, aside from the cold, there was a strange but faint tightness around his middle, as though his shirt was too snug, or he was wearing a back brace.

But the cold was the most pressing issue. Ronnie frowned at the thermostat. Seventy-one degrees. Not hot, exactly, but far from cold. He tapped at it, his sleep addled, strangely frightened brain wondering if it was broken.

Ronnie turned, resigning himself to grabbing an extra blanket and saving the investigation until the morning. That was when the pain hit.

* * *

Screams ringing in his own ears, Martin panted as the cattle prod separated from his midsection. It was pain like he had never known it before, all encompassing, penetrating deep into his bones. He gritted his teeth against the aftershocks and his shivers that followed were not just from the cold, but also the electricity still coursing through his veins.

He'd been taken prisoner, drugged and chained and imprisoned and now, tortured. There was a tight band around his middle, the chains around his hands and feet both connected to it, and it was connected to the chair Martin now sat it.

"Tell us about FIRESTORM," the man in front of him commanded for the second time.

Weak though he was, Martin managed to raise his head and glare at the man – soldier – before him. ( _Of course_ it was the army who had taken his research. Who else?) "As I said… before," he managed to get out through gritted teeth, "we never… got past… the preliminary stages."

Martin could understand why he'd been kidnapped. He'd gone to his office for the very reason he was now refusing to speak: to prevent anyone from abusing the power Firestorm offered. But what he couldn't understand was how this soldier, this army general, had discovered what had happened to him, or how he'd even known Martin had returned. Before the accelerator explosion, they never _had_ moved past the preliminary stages, and since then, no one knew what had happened to him and Ronald.

He and Clarissa had been waiting until tomorrow ( _or_ , Martin thought morosely, _later today_ ) to head to the police station and rescind his missing person's report, and though he and Ronald hadn't exactly been careful to ensure that they weren't overseen while working on controlling their fire, there was no reason anyone who had seen them would have linked the strangeness to either him or FIRESTORM.

But somehow the general did know, and Martin had been abducted, and there was no one coming for him, no one who even knew he was in trouble. Clarissa would be worried, but it would be a far cry for her mind to jump to kidnapping when he didn't return home, and even less likely for her to suspect the army of being his abductors. They hadn't even bothered to hide his location from him, which was a clear sign that he wasn't going anywhere.

The man before him – Eiling, his name tag read – shook his head, as though disappointed in Martin. "And I already told you," he responded matter-of-factly, "we know that you were able to infuse your matrix into a living test subject. You will tell us everything you know," he continued, as though there was no question about it. He brandished the cattle prod, or stun baton, or whatever it was, slightly, drawing Martin's eyes toward it. "How comfortable your stay is while you do so on the other hand…"

Swallowing back his terror, Martin wrenched his gaze from the instrument of torture. "About that," he said stuffily, mustering his strength, "it is _freezing_ in here. Surely you can do something about that?"

Eiling grinned, and it was not a friendly expression in the slightest. "Sure, Professor," he said easily, moving toward a thermostat on the wall. "Like I said, your comfort is entirely up to you." He turned back toward Martin after fiddling with the dial. "Now, where were we?"

The remnants of the pain were fading slightly, but Martin doubted that the reprieve would last long: he had already made up his mind. There was no one he would trust with the power Firestorm had at their fingertips, least of all this psychopathic army general. They'd taken his blood and what research he'd had on him, but that wouldn't be enough to give them what they wanted and Martin would do his level best to ensure that he didn't fill in the blanks.

Still, as the stun baton drew nearer once more, Martin couldn't help but wonder how long his resolve would hold, especially because it seemed as though he would be imprisoned for a long time yet to come.

* * *

When the pain faded, Ronnie found himself on his knees in the hall, arms wrapped around his middle, teeth gritted. He thought he might have cried out, but he wasn't sure. One particular spot on his side throbbed, as though the pain had originated from there, and Ronnie struggled to his feet with the aftereffects still causing him to shake slightly.

He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what had happened. The pain had been prolonged, almost, rather than sharp and stabbing, and had been in the wrong spot anyway to be a cramp. And he still felt terrified and freezing.

Ronnie didn't know what to do. Take something for the pain, which was mostly gone now? Grab an extra blanket and try to fall asleep again?

But determination crept over him from behind, and his brain seized on a single thought: he and Stein had run hot as Firestorm. Maybe the cold was a symptom of their separation. Contacting Stein was a concrete goal, and one that might help him figure out what was going on. He stumbled back into the bedroom, loosening the grip he had on his midsection as he did so.

Whether it was because of whatever noise he'd made in the hallway, or simply because of the emptiness of his vacated spot in the bed, Caitlin rolled over and blinked at him as he approached, awake even if she wasn't quite alert yet.

Ronnie gave her a small smile. "Sorry," he offered quietly, torn between telling her everything and not wanting to worry her, "mind if I borrow your phone?" The answer was no – he didn't need Caitlin to tell him that – but it was something to say that distracted him from the lingering pain.

She frowned sleepily, and even Ronnie's distraught brain couldn't help but focus on how beautiful she was. "What for?"

"I wanted to call Stein," he explained apologetically. "Just… it's probably nothing." Probably wasn't, actually, given how much pain he'd been in, however briefly, but Ronnie didn't want to make a big deal out of something that could have been nothing. Maybe it _had_ just been a cramp. (But then, why was he so terrified, even now?)

"Sure," she offered.

Ronnie grinned again, and picked the phone up off the bedside table. "Thanks." He wandered back over to his side of the bed before using it, getting comfortable again (covering his freezing limbs with the blankets he'd abandoned a few minutes before).

He'd typed in the passcode, and navigated to the 'recently dialed' page, when the phone slid from his grasp and onto the mattress beside him. With a strangled gasp that turned into another painful groan, eked out through gritted teeth, Ronnie doubled over again, incapable of focusing on anything other than the _pain_ that whited his vision.

God, it hurt, and he didn't even know why, and it wasn't even really originating from the same place as last time even if it was just as intense.

But it did die out again, leaving him hunched over in bed, arms hugging his middle, forehead pressed against his knees, teeth gritted, eyes screwed shut. He groaned again at the aftermath, and became aware of a sound from next to him.

There was a hand on his shoulder, a worried voice in his ear.

Ronnie blinked, forcing his eyes open, relaxing his jaw. "I'm… I'm alright," he managed to say, glancing up to see Caitlin leaning over him in alarm.

"No, you're not," she said plainly, worry evident in her voice and expression and the way she clutched his shoulder tightly and stared into his eyes.

He tried to grin but it came out as more of a grimace. "Maybe not," he allowed weakly, "but I'm sure it's nothing. I was just going to call Stein to make sure."

"You think it's related to Firestorm?"

It was Cisco's voice asking the question, and Ronnie's gaze flickered upward in surprise. His best friend was standing in the doorway, worried expression on his own face. Either Ronnie had been louder the second time, or Caitlin had also cried out in alarm.

"I don't know," he answered simply.

"Here, I can..." Caitlin started to offer, fishing around for her phone among the tangle of blankets now between her and him.

"No, I got it," Cisco interrupted, stepping forward and holding out his hand. Caitlin hesitated for the briefest of moments, then handed the phone to Cisco. As their friend started dialing, she turned back to Ronnie.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked.

"That's… that's the thing," Ronnie said, relaxing slightly. His middle still ached, but, like before, the lightning that had traveled through his veins, frying him from the inside out, had mostly dissipated, "it's not constant. It's like… like…" But Ronnie had no comparison to draw on; he'd never felt anything like what he was experiencing now: the random bolts of pain that were periodic but oh so intense.

He shivered again, drawing the blankets closer.

"Hi, Mrs. Stein, this is Cisco Ramon…"

Ronnie and Caitlin both glanced over at their friend, listening eagerly for news. But Ronnie was still terrified, and freezing, and he couldn't escape the feeling that something was terribly wrong. When Cisco stopped speaking, his expression shifting to surprise, Ronnie felt his own heat skip a beat.

"No, no," Cisco said quickly, "we haven't…"

A pause.

"I'm sure…"

Another pause, more pregnant than the last. Under the blankets, Ronnie sought out Caitlin's hand, squeezing it tightly. It was more for his own comfort than hers – he couldn't get his heart to settle.

"If we hear anything… Yeah, I promise. We can come over in the morning…" Cisco nodded absently to whatever the woman on the other end was saying, stumbled through a goodbye, and then hung up.

"Something's wrong with Stein," Ronnie said without waiting for whatever news his friend had.

Cisco grimaced. "Maybe," he allowed. "He left to collect his FIRESTORM research and never came home–"

Ronnie shook his head, convinced. "No, I mean something's _wrong_ with Stein. This isn't… it's not a symptom of our separation – someone's hurting the professor."

"How… how can you be sure?" Caitlin asked hesitantly, but after all that had happened the past few days, she didn't seem to doubt him.

Ronnie shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, but… It's like when I was feeling his emotions. Right now, I'm... I'm terrified, even though there's no reason to be. No reason for me, at least, but if someone grabbed _him_ …"

"You think you're still, what, linked with him?" Cisco asked.

"I don't know, but," Ronnie shivered again, "you're not cold, are you?" His gaze flickered between his two friends, both of whom shook their heads.

"No, why?"

"Because I'm _freezing_. At first I thought maybe it was because we had separated, but now I think it's because wherever Stein is, it's somewhere cold."

It had taken Ronnie a while to connect the terror in the back of his mind with all the emotions he had felt from Stein, but now that he was voicing his opinions out loud, now that he knew Stein was missing, he was sure of it: nothing was wrong with him, and nothing had gone wrong with their separation. Someone was torturing Martin Stein.

Ronnie shifted, putting his feet on the floor again. There was no way he was going back to sleep now.

* * *

Three more times Ronnie felt the burning pain, and three more times he hunched over in agony, Caitlin and Cisco watching him anxiously, before the terror in the back of Ronnie's mind had mostly faded.

"I… I think," Ronnie managed to get out, breathing heavily and straightening, still recovering from the most recent shock, "I think Stein passed out," he said. As much as he hated the idea of it, it was something of a relief. The pain dissipated more quickly than it had so far, with Stein unconscious, and his heart finally settled.

It had only been thirty minutes at most since he'd woken, maybe no more than fifteen, and the three of them had gathered in the living room. Ronnie was on the middle of the couch, wearing thick socks, an old hoodie of his, and curled up under a large blanket. Cisco sat on one side of him, Caitlin the other.

"Are you sure?" she asked anxiously.

Ronnie wasn't sure if she was worried about him (knowing that if Stein was awake he could still be tortured), or about whether or not Stein was had entered a state worse than unconsciousness.

He shook his head. "No, he's still alive, I can still feel him. I think. We have to do something." It was the second time he had uttered the words, but the first time he'd said it had been right before he'd doubled over in pain again, and Caitlin and Cisco had summarily been distracted.

"What can we do?" Cisco asked hopelessly. "You said the police are already looking for him, because they don't know he's, well, back I guess, and we don't know where he is. Do we?"

Ronnie shook his head again. No, he had no clue where Stein was, other than the fact that, wherever he was, it was freezing. "We have to help him," he repeated helplessly, brain still not working at full capacity. And it wasn't just for his own benefit that he wanted to help Stein – whatever their relationship, another man was being tortured and Ronnie couldn't just stand by and do nothing.

Caitlin and Cisco exchanged glances over his head.

"All… alright," Caitlin said hesitantly. "How do you want to start?"

They were so far out of their depths, but they were going to set things right. Ronnie wouldn't allow himself to imagine any other scenario. (And the ache in his gut, the tremors in his limbs, the pain that lingered even then – they were more than enough of a reminder of the urgency of the situation.)

* * *

Martin ached. He ached in a way he'd never known before, the remnants of the electricity in his system still bringing him pain, though the stun baton itself had long since left the room. He had no idea how much time had passed since he'd fallen into unconsciousness. Each limb felt heavy, his breathing harsh, and he was having trouble keeping his head upright in the chair they'd chained him to.

Shivering, breath catching, he jerked his head upward again as he felt his eyes begin to close. He didn't want to fall asleep (or, more accurately, pass out again). The last time he had done that… or well, the second to last time that had happened, he'd woken up here, and he wanted to be awake to face whatever the general had in store for him.

But that was going to be a hard task. The room was freezing, causing shivers to rake through him every now and again, his teeth clattering together in a way that made his head ache whenever he twitched from the cold. And the cool metal handcuffs encircling his wrists didn't help any.

Despite all this, and though the cold was undoubtedly part of the torture, it was almost irrelevant compared to the _actual_ torture. Martin could still feel the sting of the electric charge, the white-hot pain as the rod had connected with his torso and fire had raced through his veins. Not the power and warmth of Firestorm, but a cold fire, white and painful. Martin was not ashamed to admit that he had screamed – several times – but that just meant that now his throat ached as well.

He was terrified and in pain, trying to keep his determination not to tell these people anything about the Firestorm matrix, trying to keep his eyelids from falling shut and swallowing him in a darkness in which anything could happen.

However terrible Martin had felt when he'd woken in a body that wasn't his, this was one hundred times worse, for a hundred reasons, not the least of which was that Firestorm hadn't caused him any pain.

Except… just then, as Martin was contemplating Firestorm (the reason for his imprisonment, after all), he felt a small jolt of pain in his right foot, lancing up his big toe. It was enough of a surprise to cause him to wince, but it faded quickly.

With his torturers gone for the moment, and his torment ceased (no doubt temporarily), Martin had the chance to focus, and think clearly for the first time since he'd been kidnapped. And he was starting to realize that the panic in the back of his mind wasn't all his. Oh, the terror – that was all Martin – but the _panic_ …

If he and Ronald had identical brainwaves as Firestorm, there was every chance they still did. But what did that mean? Had Ronald just stubbed his toe? Martin felt hope stir within him – if that was the case, then it was likely that someone _did_ know what had happened to him – but he wasn't sure yet how that would help him.

Blinking himself awake once more, Martin looked at the chains that were holding him, and an idea came to mind. He could only hope that it would work, and that his tortured brain wasn't imagining things.

* * *

Ronnie rubbed his wrist for the third time, as the strange sensation that he was bumping into something filled him. Hours had passed, hours of frantic activity in which they'd made absolutely no progress on finding Stein. Eventually, they'd called Clarissa again and had invited her over – she'd be there in another hour or so, because she had wanted to try talking to the police first. (Ronnie didn't imagine that would go well.)

He'd been pacing for the past fifteen minutes, since he'd felt Stein waking up (the terror surging forward once more), and had already stubbed his toe once. Suddenly, on his umpteenth circuit around the room, Ronnie froze, a thought occurring to him.

Caitlin and Cisco noticed the change in him immediately. "What is it?"

He surged forward, pulling out a chair and taking a seat at the table. He could feel an ache in his chest, a tightness in his middle, a chill that had nothing to do with the room he was in, and a terror that wasn't his. Had Stein also realized the connection still existed between them?

"Does anyone know Morse code?" he asked quickly, hoping against all hope that that was what was happening, and that he wasn't simply imagining things.

"I do," Cisco responded just as fast, grabbing a pen and piece of paper as if sensing Ronnie's urgency.

"I think… I think it's Stein," Ronnie said. "Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap, tap. Tap. Tap…" He paid careful attention to the pauses between the taps – he didn't need to know Morse code to know that it would be hard to differentiate between the dots and dashes – but as he worked his confidence that Stein knew what he was doing only grew. They _were_ still connected, and both of them knew it.

"Alright, I think it's just repeating," Cisco said after a moment. He spun the piece of paper around to show both Ronnie and Caitlin:

my27army27a

"Army 27," Caitlin mused out loud. The three of them exchanged glances, and Ronnie tried to ignore the tapping he could still feel on his wrist.

He rubbed at it again anxiously, wondering how to tell Stein that he'd gotten the message. "Maybe Mrs. Stein will know more," he said. "What's the Morse code for OK?"

Cisco wrote it out: four long, one short, one long.

Ronnie looked down at his bare wrists. Stein… well, he wasn't sure exactly what Stein was using, but whatever it was felt cool, like metal (like handcuffs, Ronnie mused unhappily). And a faint touch wouldn't work – Ronnie could barely feel the slight pressure against his wrist, which probably meant that though he and Stein were connected, they didn't feel exactly what the other felt. This thought was backed up by the fact that Stein had passed out while Ronnie hadn't, and it only made the younger man worry more about the condition Stein was in.

* * *

Ronald got the message. He must have, because Martin began to feel a similar pressure on his right wrist, only he wasn't the one creating it. Just two letters: O and K, thrice over. Ronald had gotten the message.

Martin sighed in relief, slumping down in his chair, finally relaxing his arm. He'd passed along the most pertinent information – his location – and now he could only hope that Ronald (and presumably his friends) were capable of doing something with it.

But he didn't let himself get his hopes up too high. Three young adults did not exactly have the resources to go up against the army, and it was doubtful the police would believe their tale. Perhaps Dr. Wells could have done something, but it was doubtful as well that anyone would listen to a disgraced scientist who had no connection to Martin whatsoever. Who would believe any part of the story, after all?

No, his hope upon learning of the connection that still existed between him and Ronald had been false hope. They knew where he was now, yes, but there was nothing they could do about it. And as Martin still was not willing to give in and share any information with the general, then it was likely he would remain a prisoner until his death – however little time that took.

* * *

Hours had passed. Terrifyingly, horribly, agonizingly, hours had passed as the hands on the wall clock continued to move forward. It was long past nightfall again, he and Cisco and Caitlin and Mrs. Stein and even Dr. Wells all holed up in their apartment together, and they had still gotten nowhere.

They knew a few things: Martin Stein had been abducted by the army, taken to army base 27, and was being tortured, presumably for information about Firestorm.

What they didn't know was what they could do about it. Contacting the police or the army had been discounted from the beginning. None of them had any contacts within the army itself who could help them. Except for a few research projects Dr. Wells had done in his past, none of them even had any experience dealing with the military.

And the base itself was three hundred miles away – a five-hour drive, minimum – across the Missouri river and practically on the other side of Kansas. Dr. Wells was doubtful there was anything more that could be done and Caitlin, sharing his pessimism, wanted to more research into the bond between Ronnie and Stein. She hadn't said as much, but Ronnie knew she was thinking about trying to sever it.

Mrs. Stein was trying to remain strong, but she, just like the rest of them, was so far out of her depth. Every time she saw Ronnie wince it became that much harder for her to keep it together.

Cisco, it seemed like sometimes, was the only one getting anything done. He'd managed to track down the blueprints of the army base (no one had asked how), and he'd already mapped out the most expedient roads to get there.

Ronnie himself was… not as much of a help. He ached, from head to toe, and three more times he'd retreated from the others and curled up on his bed in pain as Stein had been tortured. The other man's terror was a constant presence, so much so that Ronnie could almost say he'd gotten used to it, and the cold… Despite the layers Ronnie was wearing, the two pairs of socks and the gloves on his hands, his fingers and toes were stiff and numb. He was hungry too, in an odd, distant sort of way, just another ache to add to his list, even though he'd forced himself to eat three meals that day.

The bickering was starting to get to him, and the hopelessness of it all. He slammed a hand down on the table and, though the resulting sound was muffled by the gloves he wore, it got his point across. Everyone promptly shut up.

"I'm going after him," Ronnie said plainly, firmly. They'd had the argument far too many times already, and now they were just wasting time. He wasn't going to waste any more. "You can come with me or not, but I'm going."

The four of them watched him carefully, then Dr. Wells shifted slightly toward him. "Ronnie…" he started, tone low and cautious.

"No." Ronnie shook his head. "I don't care if we have less than a one percent chance of succeeding. I don't. I have to try, and if you're alright to just sit by and do nothing, then fine, but I'm going."

Cisco took a step forward, looking slightly sheepish. "I… actually packed the van a couple hours ago," he said, "last time you were…" He gestured toward the bedroom, looking uncomfortable. "GPS is already programmed."

Ronnie couldn't help but smile at his friend, despite the circumstances, gratitude welling through him, and he nodded, glancing away from Cisco.

"I don't believe I'll be much help," Mrs. Stein spoke up, "but I can't just sit here while you rescue my husband. At the very least I can drive."

Ronnie nodded again, then glanced toward Caitlin and Dr. Wells, both of them looking apprehensive.

"Ronnie, I get that you want to help the professor, but… can we?" Caitlin asked him.

"Would you be able to live with yourself if we didn't try?"

Caitlin's expression was answer enough. Ronnie knew his fiancée – despite her pragmatic nature, she always tried to help people in need.

"Well," Dr. Wells said, drawing attention back to him, "I can see I'm outnumbered on this one, so if we're going to move forward with this, the least I can do is give you as much help as I can."

And with that, the five of them started planning possibly the weirdest – and most important – road trip that Ronnie had ever been on.

* * *

Only an hour into the drive, Ronnie fell asleep. Stein had drifted off some time ago, he was pretty sure, and other than a brief nap that had rudely been interrupted by torture session number three, Ronnie hadn't gotten much sleep. He knew they had to plan, knew there was work to be done if they were somehow going to break into a military facility and rescue the professor, but he was so tired, and he also knew he would be no help if he couldn't stay awake when they needed him to.

They'd taken a STAR Labs van, to accommodate Dr. Wells, and Mrs. Stein was driving, stating that she would leave the planning to them, so Ronnie fell asleep to the motion of the van beneath him and the comforting sounds of his friends and mentor speaking in his ears.

He woke sometime around hour five, when Mrs. Stein pulled off the highway and stopped at a gas station.

"Do we have a plan?" he asked sleepily, blinking himself awake as he ran a mental check for any new aches or pains.

"No," Caitlin said quickly, with a firm look at her co-conspirators.

Ronnie knew that look. He glanced over at Cisco.

"Wellll…" Cisco trailed off hesitantly. "We have a potential plan."

Ronnie waited expectantly.

"Look, none of us are ever going to get on base, not unless they want us to," Cisco said, and his tone was lightly apologetic.

"So, how are we going to get invited in?" Ronnie asked.

"You're not," Caitlin said. "Which is why we need to think of a _different_ plan." She looked pointedly at Cisco, but Ronnie had caught her slip up: she'd said _you_ , not _we_.

"You think they're so interested in Firestorm they'll let me in," he said. That... might actually work."

"It's a possibility," Dr. Wells allowed. "We were thinking that if you could get close enough to Professor Stein…"

"We could merge again?"

Dr. Wells and Cisco nodded, Caitlin bit her lip anxiously.

"It's too risky," she countered. "There's no guarantee that they'll take you to the professor, and even if they do, we don't know if you're even capable of remerging."

Ronnie shook his head absently, searching out those emotions in the back of his mind that weren't quite his. "We're still connected," he said confidently, "we can merge again." Back when they'd separated, he'd never even considered it. That had been the end of Firestorm for him, and he'd been fine with that. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Ronnie, you have to have skin to skin contact for it even to be a possibility," Caitlin pleaded.

"We've been working on this for almost twenty-four hours now – do we have any other plans?"

No one spoke.

"Look, what if I just… tell them I'll talk about Firestorm, but only if they let me see Stein first?"

"There are too many things that could go wrong," Caitlin countered. "We don't even know how they found out about Stein, they might not believe that you know anything about Firestorm. Or they might know too much, and not let you near him. What if you go in there and you don't come back out?"

"Well then we've got proof, don't we? You guys will know for a fact where I am."

Cisco shifted uncomfortably. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he said, "but you're still legally dead, Ronnie. We can't just say that our friend who, oh yeah, we already had a funeral for? He just got kidnapped by the army."

"That might actually work in our favor though," Ronnie said, thinking hard. "I'm supposed to be dead, right? The army's going to wonder why I'm not. And if they want to find out, they'll take me to Stein."

There was silence for a moment as everyone considered it.

"It… could be our best option," Dr. Wells allowed after a moment.

Caitlin shook her head again, but she didn't protest.

Ronnie glanced toward the front seat, where Mrs. Stein had remained silent as she'd gotten in and out of the van to refuel. "How long until we get there?"

"Another half hour, I believe," she said gently. There were unshed tears in her eyes, and gratitude etched into her face.

Ronnie smiled back at her. "That gives us another half hour to plan then," he said confidently, shoving aside his own anxieties and fears. They'd come too far to turn back now.

* * *

A commotion outside drew Martin's attention, pulling him from the half-asleep state he'd been in for a while. Footsteps. He was beginning to dread that sound, but at the moment he couldn't bother to muster up enough energy to care. His heart was too tired to beat frantically in his chest, and his breathing was shallow enough as it was.

So, Martin sat there, limp and uncaring as his torturers approached yet again. He still hadn't said anything, and by now he'd come to the conclusion that he was, at the very least, strong enough to hold out until his death. It wasn't exactly a comforting thought, given that he doubted it would be long before his captors realized the same thing, but at least he could go out knowing that he hadn't helped the bastards create any weapons of mass destruction.

He didn't even bother to lift his head as he heard the lock click open. The footsteps entered the room. Martin's fingers curled in irritation, his heart dropped with dread. He swallowed heavily, already bracing for the coming pain. He dismissed his earlier, optimistic, thoughts. No, it wasn't his strength that was preventing him from talking, not anymore. He just simply didn't have the energy. He was going to die here, so why fight it?

He didn't want to tell anyone anything about Firestorm, but he wasn't even sure he would be able to speak anyway if that hadn't been the case. He hadn't even been able to scream last time, his throat raw, his mouth dry.

"See," Eiling's snide superior tone was saying, "intact."

What did it matter who he was talking to, or even what he was saying? Martin blinked, his fear of pain keeping him awake (the cold had long since simply become numbing), but didn't bother to look up or try to figure out what the words might have meant.

The footsteps drew closer, and he forced himself not to tense in anticipation of the coming electric shock. But there was no point in delaying it, and Martin did derive a small glimmer of satisfaction in staring Eiling down, refusing to speak (in the moments before the cattle prod was used, of course; after that, Martin usually lost his ability to focus on anything). So, he looked up, glaring (a weak glare, but a glare nevertheless), straight into the stoic face of Ronnie Raymond.

He blinked in shock, mouth gaping open slightly, hands clenching onto the armrests of his chair in surprise. He had to be hallucinating, didn't he?

But off to the side, Eiling was watching Martin's surprise with perverse satisfaction, relishing it, and Ronald had to be real, because he quickly took advantage of the general's distraction.

The younger man subtly reached forward, hand latching onto Martin's own, and the older man felt a tugging sensation somewhere… somewhere. He didn't respond instantly, but the tugging sensation increased in intensity and Martin's mind (sluggish and tired and confused) was still quick enough to realize what Ronald was trying to do.

They'd never done it before, never willingly merged, but in the end, it was as simple as unmerging had been. Martin mentally reached for Ronald, felt his limbs become lighter, his aches evaporate. For the briefest of instants, he could no longer feel the chair beneath him or the chains holding him down, and then he was standing on two feet again (even if they weren't technically _his_ feet).

There was so much they had yet to learn about Firestorm – Martin felt his pain mostly evaporate, though some of it lingered, felt his hunger simmer down, the stiffness of his limbs vanish, his mind clear – but there was no time to consider that, to think about it, to wonder what it meant.

Eiling might have allowed himself to relax slightly, and get distracted, but his reaction was still incredibly quick as he reached for his gun.

Ronald was faster, brain already thinking quickly as Martin's got up to speed. He flung their hand forward, unleashing a fireball that knocked the general into the wall behind him. He didn't wait to see the effects of his actions, darting for the door.

 _"I presume you have a plan?"_ Martin asked as they sprinted onward, his mind clear and focused in a way it hadn't been for the past… however long he'd been a prisoner.

"Yeah," Ronald answered shortly, conserving his breath, "run."

Not much of a plan, but it would have to do. Ronald shot another blast of fire forward, forcing a soldier out of the way. There were shouts from behind them, but neither one of them were really listening.

Together they sprinted down the hallway, blazing and burning, throwing fireballs at anyone who neared as alarms blared overhead. There was no time to wonder how much damage their fire was doing, no time to stop or discuss anything.

Ronald, at least, seemed to know where he was going. He turned without hesitation, pushing through some doors and ignoring others, until Martin could see the darkness of the night from beyond a glass door.

They pushed through it, and finally stopped running. There on the lawn, between them and freedom, stood ten to twenty men, all heavily armed, all aiming at Firestorm. Ronald's feet skidded to a stop, catching his breath. No one seemed to know what to do (not without the general there).

Martin was pretty sure that they were wanted alive, but if Ronald moved to attack some of the soldiers, that didn't mean the others wouldn't fire. They couldn't go forward, and they couldn't go back. But a thought occurred to him, as he remembered how much thrust they'd generated when they'd thrown Eiling into the wall.

Ronald's hands were down at his sides at the moment, his shoulders tense with anticipation as his gaze flickered back and forth.

 _"Upward,"_ Martin said. _"Our… our fire, might be able to generate enough thrust to lift us over them."_

Ronald's hands clenched in anticipation, his gaze flickered up to the stars.

 _"They might still fire,"_ Martin allowed, guessing at the reasoning behind the man's hesitation, _"but if we move fast enough…"_ It was the only chance they had.

Ronald gave the smallest of nods and, sensing the other man's determination, they both put the full force of their power into blasting their fire downwards, lifting them into the air. Martin had been picturing perhaps a large leap or something similar, but that wasn't what happened at all.

No, as they aimed their power at the ground, Firestorm flew.

* * *

The world looked different, from above. Ronnie hadn't expected to fly, but he didn't have time to stop and consider what he was doing. His and Stein's burst of energy had thrust them up, up, up, faster and faster, until the military compound could have been a dollhouse and even the bursts of gunfire had faded – but that didn't mean they were out of danger.

In the still winter night, their blazing form was a giant target, and if the army decided they didn't want Firestorm to live, Ronnie wasn't sure there was anything he and Stein could do about it.

So, he took only a moment to catch his breath, to gaze at the Earth spread out below him and come to terms with yet another shocking revelation, and then refocused on the here and now.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked.

Stein… hadn't looked good, not in the slightest, but there had been no time for worry as Ronnie had approached the chair the older man had been chained to. But he'd still noticed the way most of his own aches had dissipated when they'd merged.

 _"Remarkably, yes,"_ Stein answered. _"Possibly a result of us merging, or simply because my body no longer exists, so to speak. How did you… how?"_

The other man seemed to be lost for words, but Ronnie felt a swell of gratitude and befuddlement that let him know what Stein really meant.

"It's a long story," he said (and still they climbed upward, slowing down now, but still moving). "It can wait until we meet up with the others again."

 _"I cannot thank you enough, Ronald, for coming for me,"_ Stein stated plainly.

Despite their circumstances, Ronnie felt a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "I'll call us even if you can figure out how to land," he found himself joking. He knew very well he had saved Stein's life – had come to that sinking realization the moment he'd laid eyes on the other man – but right now he didn't want to think about what would have happened if he'd arrived too late, or hadn't managed to come up with a plan.

There was a huff of surprised amusement from Stein at the comment, but Ronnie would swear he could feel the professor's mind refocusing. Together they ignored what they were fleeing from, ignored the tumultuous past twenty-four hours of their lives, and focused for the second time on determining exactly what they were capable of.

Going upward was easy. Aiming for a particular direction was much more difficult. Luckily, they got the hang of it quickly enough, and it didn't take long after that for Ronnie to find the parking lot Caitlin and the others were waiting in.

They landed to the amazed and joyous looks of all four of the people waiting for them.

Caitlin rushed forward to hug him as soon as his flames were extinguished, Mrs. Stein taking a few hesitant steps forward.

"I'm alright," Ronnie promised, hugging Caitlin tightly. He looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Stein. "We're both alright."

"Martin…?" Mrs. Stein said hesitantly.

Ronnie paused, drawing back from Caitlin. Stein hadn't been in great shape before they'd merged – what would happen when they separated? The thought had stopped them from unfusing the moment they'd landed, but was the worry of what would happen strong enough to deny Stein a face to face meeting with his wife?

From Stein's own hesitation, Ronnie guessed he was feeling the same thing. "What do you think?" he asked out loud.

Caitlin hesitated, clearly wondering if he was addressing her, but she caught on quickly enough, closing her mouth before she spoke.

 _"I… I wish to see my wife,"_ Stein decided after a moment's hesitation.

Ronnie nodded once, then took a few steps back from the rest of the group. At some internal, unspoken count, he and Stein reached for their power and pulled apart from each other.

Their second separation was the same as the first: they stumbled as they separated. This time though, it wasn't because they were readjusting to life apart. It was because as soon as they became two separate beings, as soon as Stein's body rematerialized, the pain returned. The pain wasn't as severe for Ronnie as it was for Stein, but it still caused him to miss a step.

Spinning around, his gaze locked quickly on Stein. The man barely looked as though he could stay upright and Ronnie hurried to his side, grabbing his arm and keeping him vertical. It was a motion he'd done without thought, and after all they'd been through together, the physical closeness wasn't strange or uncomfortable, never mind that Stein was still practically a stranger to him.

In front of them, Mrs. Stein gasped in shock, raising a hand to her mouth as her eyes watered with unshed tears.

"I'm…" Stein tried to speak, tried to reassure her, but his voice broke and he coughed instead, hacking fits that sent small spikes of pain shooting through Ronnie's own gut. He tightened his grip on the old man's arm.

"He's just tired, and hungry," Ronnie said for the man. It wasn't true – it was incredibly obvious to Ronnie, at the very least, that Stein's pain was not just a result of exhaustion and mild starvation – but along with Stein's pain, he could also feel the man's worry and love for his wife. Ronnie was sure that his words echoed what Stein would have said, had he been able to.

"Oh Martin," Mrs. Stein said worriedly. She hurried forward, grasping her husband's hands.

With her supporting him, Ronnie let go, giving them a private moment as he stepped away – towards Caitlin and Cisco and Dr. Wells.

"See," he said to his fiancée, "it worked."

Caitlin just smiled up at him and took his hands.

"Thanks for the blueprints," Ronnie continued, turning to Cisco.

"No problem, man. Flying is new, though."

With a deliberate movement, Dr. Wells moved his wheelchair forward slightly, catching their attention before Ronnie could speak again. "Not to ruin the moment," he said carefully, "but this isn't over yet."

His careful words were enough to draw the Steins out of their murmured greetings.

"I'm afraid Dr. Wells is correct," Stein said, voice shaky and faint. He was starting to shake with the effort of standing, even with his wife at his side.

"They're never going to stop looking for us," Ronnie said in realization. He'd always known that, from the first moment he'd considered rescuing Stein, but he hadn't really let himself think about it. Hadn't contemplated what it would mean for his life.

"What are you saying?" Caitlin asked worriedly, though from her tone she knew exactly what he meant – she just didn't want it to be true.

"I'm sorry, Ronald," Stein managed to say, "to have dragged you into this."

Ronnie shook his head, gazing around at their friends and family. At the people who had agreed to a five-hour road trip to rescue one man from the hands of the _United States military_. He hadn't let himself consider anything but rescuing Stein, but the sheer scale of what they had just done hit him suddenly, as he realized he was about to leave these same people behind.

"No, neither of us chose this," he countered. "No one here did. And we're not going to drag you down with us." He took a few steps back from Caitlin, heart aching as he did so, and held a hand out toward the professor, as if to shake.

Stein looked down at the hand in confusion for a moment, then glanced over at his wife. Realization colored his expression. He took a few shaky steps forward, and grasped Ronnie's outstretched hand.

Their clasped hands meant they were in agreement, and brought back the return of Firestorm. The light swirled around them once more, drawing them together, and they stood straighter at the end of it, stronger.

Caitlin shook her head. "Ronnie…" she said.

Firestorm shook his head. "The army is after _us_ ," he said, and though it was Ronnie speaking, it was both their words. "We couldn't have escaped without all of you, but we're not putting you in any more danger."

"What… what are you saying?" Clarissa asked.

Firestorm turned toward her. "Going home would only put you in danger," he repeated. "In fact, the army probably saw us land – they could be heading here right now."

"You can't just leave, man, we just got you back!" Cisco argued – but the words weren't as strong as they could have been.

Ronnie quenched his flames, and stepped forward to embrace his friend. "We'll be in touch, if we can be." Pulling back, he silently shouldered the backpack Cisco handed him, then held out a hand towards Dr. Wells, who took it firmly. "Thanks for everything."

The man only nodded solemnly.

Firestorm stepped back again, reigniting his nuclear fire. He glanced toward the two women he loved most. "We love you," he said, a promise and a fact, and then he soared into the air once more.

But even as Ronnie knew he was doing the right thing, even as Stein agreed with him, he couldn't help but resent the decision he was making. Separation had given him a brief moment of hope, the thought of a return to a normal life. Now he was choosing to leave that life behind to keep those he loved safe.

He had no idea of where they were going, or what they would do when they got there. Stein was still injured, Ronnie still legally dead. They couldn't contact anyone; couldn't meet with anyone they knew. They were a nuclear-powered amalgam of two people, connected even when they were separate, and they were being pursued for the fire at their fingertips.

His life had effectively been taken prisoner by the FIRESTORM matrix, and it was thrusting him in a direction he didn't want to go, with a stranger at his side.

* * *

 **AN: This chapter ends this story, but there will be a sequel if anyone's interested. It's partially written, so the first chapter of Binding Energy should keep to the current schedule, and be up in two weeks.**

 **Thanks again to radpineapple for the beta reading.**

 **Let me know what you think!**


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